Latura of Redwall, Book III: A Haven, Beleaguered and Besieged
by Highwing
Summary: "But when another seer comes / It opens wide the door ... "
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE**

"So, d'you really reckon this is th' blinkin' war we've been fearin'?"

Down in Clewiston's private chambers in the Long Patrol warrens beneath Redwall's lawns, Traveller and the Colonel continued the one-on-one discussion they'd started up in Great Hall. While the rest of the Abbey's hares either slept or helped stand watch over Harth's company up above, the two commanders of that species debated what this night's events might portend. Dawn neared - not that the presence or absence of the sun in the sky meant much in these subterranean chambers and passages - but neither Clewiston nor Traveller thought about returning to their beds, not even after their respective rotations on lookout duty.

"Well, Clewy, that bushtail wasn't 'xactly talking very friendly up there just now. As you yourself pointed out, a siege is an act of war, an' that squirrel's hinting mighty strongly that he'd entertain doin' just that, an' maybe more to boot. We've always known it was just a matter of time before His Bloodiness moved against Redwall, but let's face it, it would've been hard for even him to open hostilities with this Abbey unless he had some manner of excuse or pretext for doin' so. Well, mebbe this's it."

"But ... rats? Urthblood's ultimate move on Mossflower, over rats?"

"Yah, who'da thunk it, wot? Hardly the bally direction we'd have expected it to come from, but then, that's perfectly in keepin' with that brute. Always hittin' us with the unexpected."

Clewiston mulled this over, storms in his eyes. "We can't win a war against Urthblood. Not with the forces he commands, or the numbers he can throw at us. We just can't."

"'Fraid I'm forced to agree with you, old bean. Which is why I caught your ear at th' confab up there, when the chatter drifted that way. Could be this whole thing's one big whoppin' ruse to lay the path toward open war. Come up with a campaign he knew we'd be bound to oppose, throw a whole gaggle of ratsoaked refugees our way an' then demand we turn 'em over against ev'rything this Abbey stands for, and then ratchet up his preparations for war when we refused. Well, if that's his treacherous game, we can't play it."

"Which means ... wot? Kickin' out all those frightfaces, even if the Abbot says they can stay? Turnin' out family beasts, even if it violates the spirit of Redwall?"

"Not sayin' that, Clewy. Mebbe there's some way to offer those rats sanctuary, without movin' inta open conflict over it. Not sure wot that'd be, but that's the way we've gotta go. I will say, this reminds me of something I've seen before, an' it gives me the ol' willies right down th' blinkin' spine."

"Oh? Wot's that?"

"Noonvale." Traveller shifted on his paws, restive at the memory. "Back when I was shadowin' Urthblood all up 'n' down th' bally Northlands on Lord Urthfist's behalf, an' I managed to slip into Noonvale after they'd rebuffed an' rebuked Bloodface's demands for an alliance, they spelled out th' same kinda tale I'm seein' replayed here. 'Course, they weren't harborin' fugitives or openly opposing Urthblood in his campaigns up there, but he did all he could to cut 'em off an' isolate them when they refused to throw in with him. Big difference is, Noonvale's accustomed to bein' isolated an' left to itself, so Urthblood's siege didn't change their lot all that much. Redwallers, on the other paw, are used to all manner of visitors comin' an' goin', and bein' able t' venture out inta Mossflower anytime it strikes their fancy. But I hafta tell ya, Clewy, sittin' up there just now, listenin' to Urthblood's attack dog layin' down th' law to us an' issuin' all kinds of sodden threats, it felt like Noonvale all over again to me - 'cept this time, with the promise of somethin' worse, if we don't knuckle under an' do wot's bein' demanded of us."

"Well, that's jolly unsettlin' and a half. Guess this means we'll hafta tread right carefully, figure out some way to stick to our priorities without givin' 'em cause to step it up to full hostilities. Won't be easy, chap, 'specially if Urthblood's been plannin' this for a long time an' took care to put all his blinkin' pieces in place."

"That's th' thing, chum - I think something may've come up that His Bloodiness never counted on, or worked into his plans. Something that stands to surprise him as much as us."

"Oh? But that bloody brute sees an' knows ev'ry bloomin' thing ... "

"Not always, Clewy. I've even heard him admit as much himself - tho', with how he lies, you never can know wot's true an' wot's not with him. But in this case, I may be tempted to take him at his word for once. Y' see, I don't think he ever planned on those rats makin' it to Redwall an' forcing this standoff in th' first place."

"Oh? Wot makes you say that, Travs?"

"You remember how I told you once, after the fiasco at Salamandastron, I was standin' on the slopes of the mountain with Urthblood after the battle, and I was struck with the feelin' that the very currents of fate 'n' history were swirlin' around us an' bein' bent to his will - that the very world itself was bein' warped 'n' twisted 'n' turned askew just by him standin' there? I'd never before or since felt anything like it ... until tonight."

Clewiston's ears stood straight up at this. "Tonight? You mean when you said it felt like Noonvale all over again?"

"No, earlier. Before those squirrels showed up - when I was sittin' in front of the Tapestry with Wink 'n' Lattie. That ratmaid's got it, Clewy - the same bally thing Urthblood does. I felt it, from my eartips straight down to my scut - that sweep of destiny swirlin' about me, makin' the solid ground shift an' sway 'neath my paws. It hit me with a certainty, leavin' not a shred of doubt in my mind. Lattie doesn't just see the future - she makes it, changes it, just with her mere presence. Could be she's not even aware she's doin' it, but she could very well be Urthblood's equal on this score - a power maybe even he wouldn't be able to dominate or control."

"Hmm - I see wot you mean, ol' chum. That'd throw a spanner in his souffle, wouldn't it? Havin' somebeast around who could match him at his own prophetic game. Maybe he thought he could round up all th' rats hereabouts without us even findin' out about it, or at least not until it was mostly done. In which case, our simple little ratmaid's gone an' put his cart off the tracks as surely as our own Abbey cart got smashed at the quarry."

"By the Spirit of Martin, accordin' to Lattie," Traveller said.

"Ho right - an' if she's half the super-seer you think she is, she'd be right about that, wouldn't she? I c'n see now why you stepped in when we were about t' chuck 'em all outta the Abbey."

"Wouldn'ta pulled rank on you so egregiously if there hadn't been urgent need, Clewy chap. Hope there's no hard feelin's or bruised ego ... "

"Not at all. Circumstances dictate actions, don'tcha know. But, if she's really that powerful, is it even safe havin' her in the Abbey?"

"Not sure we've got any say in th' matter. Wink 'n' I agree that she's here 'cos Martin wanted her here, an' if it's also true that Martin and His Bloodiness 're clashin' right now on some other plane, locked in some infernal struggle only Lattie can sense, stands to reason Martin wanted her here for some definite purpose. Whether that was t' tell us he 'n' Urthblood were all atussle, or something beyond that, we can't really know. But fate 'n' destiny are all bound up in that one, as sure as they are in Urthblood, an' I'm guessin' fate has final say in such things. I half suspect if we marched up there right now an' tried to throw her out ourselves, something'd get in our bally way to prevent it from happening. This's beyond us now."

Clewistone pondered all Traveller had said. "So, far from His Bloodiness settin' this up as a trap to draw Redwall into war, you think these rats bein' here could be his plans goin' badly awry?"

"I'd say one's as likely as the other, Colonel."

"Do you suppose, if she's as powerful as you s'pect, that she's meant to help us against Urthblood somehow?"

"Honestly, I couldn't even begin t' guess. But looks to me like destiny delivered her to us, an' my guess is destiny's the only jolly thing that'll take her away from us too!"

00000000000

Contrary to his own prediction, Geoff was up well before midmorning, in plenty of time to enjoy a late breakfast not long after most everybeast else had finished their morning meal. Rather than proceeding directly to Great Hall and seating himself to be waited on and served there, he made for the kitchens instead, to see how Friar Hugh was coping with the extra mouths to feed. Geoff found the area abuzz with activity, moreso than was usual for the period immediately following a meal.

"Getting a jump on lunch?" he assessed.

"Still working on breakfast, actually," came Hugh's gruff reply. "Just finished feeding all the regular Abbeybeasts and the newest freed slaves, and now it's time for the Guosim and all those rats. We didn't expect to see you up and about this early, Abbot. Can we get you something as well, or have you already eaten?"

"I haven't, in fact. Only just got up a short time ago, and decided to make this the first stop on my morning rounds. So yes, I am a bit peckish. Whatever you're making for everybeast else is fine - I'll take it out in Great Hall. So, do you anticipate any problems with meeting the needs of our present population, should this current arrangement turn out to be a prolonged, open-ended affair?"

"Truth to tell, Abbot, I'm not sure how long we'll be able to stretch things. The larders are always traditionally at a low point in spring, after having the Guosim with us the entire winter and no new replenishment from our orchard and gardens until later in the growing season. And we're even lower than usual with all these former slaves here now, and from having Urthblood's shrews and Gawtrybe staying with us briefly. We've enough to last us for some time yet, but with so many creatures to feed everyday - especially if those rats stay on - we'll be dependent on foraging from the forest by the first day of summer."

"That could be an issue, I'm afraid. Lieutenant Custis is threatening to place Redwall under siege and prohibit us from foraging as long as we harbor any rats within our walls."

"Well, then, throw them out, and solve two problems at one go."

"Friar! How could you suggest such a thing? Those rats came to us seeking our protection - protection which, it now appears, they very badly need. It's those Northland squirrels who talk of taking measures against our home, thrusting upon us the devil's bargain between violating our beliefs or submitting to privation and hardship. You may not be thrilled about having rats living here amongst us, Friar, but they're not the ones forcing us to go against our ways."

"No - they're just the ones who'll empty our pantries and storerooms and leave us with empty, growling bellies if we can't restock from the river and forest."

"Our pantries aren't empty just yet, and hopefully some agreement can be worked out to prevent that from happening. Thank you for your candidness, Friar, and please do keep me appraised of the situation as it develops."

Out in Great Hall, Geoff found Alex seated at the main table. Nodding his good mornings to the pawful of other late risers scattered about the Hall, he took a seat alongside his old squirrel friend. "Good day, Alex. Um, have you slept at all? I think the rings under your eyes have rings of their own!"

"Haven't been in much of a sleeping mood. I still can't believe Mina kept this from me - from us. A campaign so ambitious that it would surely affect all of Mossflower ... how did she imagine such a thing could be kept from us?"

"From what was said last night, I gather that was never Urthblood's plan. As long as this ... this Purge could be set in motion before we became aware of it, it would be too late for us to do anything about it, and we'd just have to accept it."

"Just like Foxguard."

"Well," Geoff said hopefully, "at least that seems to have worked out for the best, so far. Those foxes have proven themselves friends, and appear to be fairly trustworthy ... "

"I don't see this turning out well. What Urthblood sought to achieve with Foxguard and what he seeks to accomplish now are two very different things ... although maybe that red tower was intended all along to serve as a cudgel to help impose his will on Mossflower. Who's to say how friendly our fox acquaintances will remain if we move into open opposition against Urthblood over something like this?"

"So far it's been the Gawtrybe threatening us, not Tolar or Foxguard. We don't even know at this point whether Foxguard is to play any part in the Purge."

"Truax said the foxes up North helped with the Purge there. Is there any reason to think it will be different here? Urthblood could have built Foxguard anywhere in Mossflower, but he chose to place it directly across the river, half a day's march away, where it would literally tower over us. The symbolism cuts both ways: a companion stronghold to stand in solidarity with Redwall, or a rival to counter us and assert Urthblood's presence in these lands?"

"I know what the Long Patrol would say," Geoff commented with a smirk, "and we've got about eightscore rats on our premises who would likely agree with those hares. But until I hear from Tolar or his foxes directly, I will not assume one way or the other that he is part of any action against Redwall."

"Never imagined anything would put the Long Patrol and horderats on the same side."

"Strange days indeed seem to have found us. So, speaking of our latest guests, how do they seem to be doing this morning?"

"Fine. Relieved, but apprehensive, as I suppose they've every right to be, until they know for certain that they'll definitely be allowed to stay. At least they're not acting unruly or causing any trouble."

"Well, they must appreciate how lucky they are to be here," said Geoff, "especially after what Lieutenant Custis had to say last night. Between that very real threat outside our walls and our stolid defenders like Clewiston and Log-a-Log within, they'd know better than to do anything that might lead us to expel them from Redwall."

"I think it's more than that," Alex observed. "It's that Harth - the way he lays down the law to his rats, they know not to cross him, and to do exactly what he says. I suspect his commands carry far more weight with them than anything the Long Patrol or Guosim or my Forest Patrol might tell them. Makes me wonder just what kind of horde leader he was."

"Oh, but he was never a horde leader," Geoff jokingly reminded Alex. "He was just some mad fox's general!"

"Ah, of course! I forgot!" Turning more serious as he picked up his barely-touched bilberry muffin, Alex went on, "But they do listen to Harth more than anybeast else, and follow his lead. I'd say that makes him the key. As long as he's genuine about seeking peaceful sanctuary within our home, the rest of that ugly crowd ought to fall into line behind him. That makes Harth the one we have to keep an eye on, and try to figure out."

"If they're to become Redwallers, they'll need to learn that the word of the Abbot supersedes that of anybeast else, including their former general. I hope Harth doesn't think he can set up his own private rat fiefdom within Redwall."

"I wouldn't be so quick to condemn such a thing, Geoff. These are not normal times. When a crisis comes upon you, you make use of whatever tools you have at your disposal - something I learned seasons ago during my Forest Patrol training. If using Harth to keep all his rats docile and obedient proves our best option, who's to care if they'll only listen to him - as long as _he_ listens to _you_?"

"Hm. Don't take this the wrong way, Alex, but that almost comes across as Urthblood thinking."

"Maybe trying to figure out how that badger thinks is what we should be doing more of - although, considering this latest surprise he's thrown at us, I suspect that may prove an exercise in futility. It may be nobeast else alive is capable of thinking like Urthblood."

"You may well be right about that, my friend. So, ah, where is Mina this morning?"

"Out with the Gawtrybe."

"Oh. I might be tempted to draw some conclusions about her loyalties from that."

"So might I, Abbot - since I'm fairly certain she's not out there to negotiate on Redwall's behalf."

"And what of the Gawtrybe themselves? Have they pulled back at all, or are they still poised to threaten this Abbey?"

"Hard to say. They've reformed along the forest edge - right where Harth's company was camped, in fact. They seem to have destroyed some of the tents and bedding, and gathered up all the rats' other belongings that got left behind, so that nobeast can go out to reclaim it."

"That's not good."

"Not at all. Especially since it seems Winokur promised Harth that it could all be collected once everyrat was safely inside. So much for that plan."

"Hopefully we'll be able to supply them with enough to make up for what they lost. It's not as if they'll need to do any cooking of their own, so any pots or pans or vessels or utensils Custis confiscated is no big loss. As for the rest, I'm afraid that with so many creatures staying here these days, we're as low on bedding as we are on beds, and our fabrics for tent shelters, not to mention extra clothes, might not be in any greater supply than our food and drink."

"So, do you think we'll be letting them stay?"

Geoff heaved a long sigh. "I really can't see not letting Captain Truax and his family remain. There are only four of them, after all, and it appears they would have come to us anyway, independently of Harth's group. Then again, Custis made it pretty plain that harboring any rats at all would represent an unacceptable violation of Urthblood's decree, so sheltering four might as well be sheltering fourscore, or four hundred."

"I imagine that would hold especially true for a former captain of Urthblood's who managed to escape from the Northlands to tell us everything that's been happening there."

"True. And as for Latura's group of village rats, well, they seem perfectly ... woodlanderish, for want of a better word. I trust they'd fit in very well here. They certainly don't seem threatening in any way, and the seven of them would hardly strain our Abbey resources. Harth's full company, on the other paw ... "

"That would get trickier, allowing some to stay and forcing others out."

"It would get even more tricky, trying to separate Harth's rats. I noticed at least two or three ratmums among them who are with child, so Turma from Latura's party isn't the only one in a family way. And then there are the youngsters, and the oldsters ... how am I supposed to put any of them out of Redwall, and condemn them to whatever Tratton would have in store for them?"

"Based on your impassioned plea there, you're not. And I'll stand between any of them and Custis to keep it from happening, if I am able." Alex looked down at his scarcely-nibbled muffin. "I wish Monty were here to give his counsel. He was always the ... less intellectual of our twosome, but sometimes there's no substitute for down-to-earth otter sense."

"Yes, I'm missing Foremole for the same reason. We need as many different perspectives and viewpoints on this as we can get. And few creatures are as sensible as moles. I hope they're not encountering any trouble out there at the quarry."

Alex gave a tired chuckle. "I'm sure they're doing better than we are. Foremole must be in his element, having an entire quarry to work with!"

"Nevertheless, I think I'll have Highwing instruct his Sparra to make daily flights out to the quarry just to check up on things. Just because everything there was fine when Rafter flew out yesterday doesn't mean that crisis or misfortune might not overtake them on very short notice, and our birds are the only way we have of keeping abreast of news there in any kind of timely manner. And speaking of our bird friends, have Skytop, Harpreet or Brybag shown up yet?"

"Probably not until later," Alex replied with a knowing smile. "It's a long way from Foxguard to Redwall for such young Sparra."

"Foxguard? What are you talking about?"

"Just something that came out in the ... discussion Mina and I had last night after the council in Great Hall broke up. Turns out she dispatched our Sparra trio to Foxguard to summon Custis. That's how the Gawtrybe knew those rats were here - it wasn't that they'd been spotted from the tower at all."

"Well, I'll be ... Alex, somebeast really needs to talk to that wife of yours, and remind her what it means to be a Redwaller."

"I've already tried, Geoff, although you're welcome to take a stab at it yourself. Maybe such a reprimand will carry more weight coming from Redwall's Abbot than from me ... but I tend to doubt it."

"I can't believe she had the gall to go behind our backs like that, and to imperil three of our sparrows in the bargain. Foxguard may be fairly close, but it's still a respectable distance for youngbirds accustomed to staying within sight of Redwall on even their most far-ranging flights. Did Mina at least say whether they're all right?"

"The Gawtrybe are here, aren't they? That proves they delivered Mina's message just fine. But yes, Mina said Custis assured her they arrived at Foxguard tired but otherwise in good health. They were naturally too exhausted to fly back the same day, but they should be returning sometime today - unless Tolar proves such a fine and accommodating host that they decide to linger there longer."

"I can't picture those pampered Abbey Sparra finding too much allure in a den of militaristic foxes. I imagine we'll see them back here by midday, or not much later. Unless they take a side trip to the quarry, or someplace else that strikes their flighty fancy. Perhaps I should have Highwing send out a couple of grown sparrows to escort them back here, before we even think about the quarry ... "

"That's really up to you. I'd say we have quite a full plate with just what's inside our walls ... and outside of them."

"Yes, that's true. Speaking of missing Redwallers, has anybeast managed to track down Vanessa after her disappearing act at the end of last night's council?"

"Not so far. It seems she's crept back into whatever hiding place she's found for herself. I'm sure she'll poke her head out again to pester us when it suits her."

"I'm not entirely convinced that's advisable in this case, or something we can afford to just sit back and wait for."

Alex gave Geoff a serious look. "You're thinking about what Latura said, aren't you?"

"How can I not? Winokur and Traveller are both certain that Latura's gift of prophecy is genuine, and she got a hundred and a half of her fellow rats to follow her on that premise as well. So when she comes right out and refers to Vanessa as a 'deadbeast' right in front of all of us, what am I to think? I suspect Nessa may be in some manner of peril, most likely from the affliction she's suffered ever since Foxguard. We know her behavior's changed for the worse recently, and then there are those frightening, deathly fainting spells. It could be that the injury she sustained four seasons ago is finally about to claim her." Geoff heaved a deep sigh. "Just what we need, on top of everything else going on."

"Do you think we ought to send for Mona?"

"I really don't know if there'd be any point. She's said herself that Vanessa's condition is beyond her, and there's really nothing left to be done about it, by her or by anybeast else, except to just let it run its course. Besides, with this standoff between us and Urthblood's Gawtrybe, she might not be inclined to come running when we call."

"Then again, she might be able to provide us some insight into just how Tolar and his foxes regard this campaign against the rats. You'll notice there aren't any swordfoxes out there with Custis - only his squirrels. And when I pressed Mina on it last night, she was somewhat evasive, refusing to answer directly or offer anything but the vaguest, broadest assurances that she felt confident Tolar fully supported this campaign. But something in her manner leads me to suspect that might not be entirely true."

Geoff raised an eyebrow. "You think we might have an ally in Tolar?"

"If not an ally, then possibly somebeast who won't join with Custis in any action against Redwall. The swordfoxes have always been presented to us as Urthblood's most elite warriors, and Foxguard was built just for them, so I can't imagine that Tolar doesn't carry considerably more authority in Mossflower than Custis does."

"Which means that if he withholds his support from Custis in any move against Redwall ... "

"It pretty much cuts that arrogant squirrel's legs out from under him. Which still leaves the Gawtrybe as a problem to contend with, but it at least leaves him isolated. And if Tolar hesitates in throwing his weight behind Custis because he suspects Urthblood himself might disapprove of a siege of Redwall, that could ultimately prove our way out of this."

"Hm. Now all we have to do is get word to Urthblood somehow, and hope he doesn't side with Custis."

"Or get word to Foxguard," Alex said. "Remember, they have that signalling mirror atop their tower. And I imagine a message as simple as 'Gawtrybe have Redwall under siege, please advise' would be very easy to send."

"Hmmm. Definitely something to consider. But before we go to such lengths, let's give the lieutenant a day or two to calm down and see if he softens his stance at all on his own. Seasons know, we'll have enough to keep us all busy in the meantime!" Geoff's gaze went to the kitchens, from out of which now appeared a line of heavily-laden trolleys pushed by Hugh's willing staff. "Ah, here comes round two of breakfast - including a portion for me, I hope. Once I've eaten, I'll head outside to see how everything's going there."

Alexander eyed the muffin on his plate. "I was going to offer you mine, but I guess you'd prefer one without teeth marks."

"Um, typically, yes. But don't throw it away, though. If this does turn out to be any kind of prolonged siege, we won't be able to waste even a morsel of food - not even a squirrel-nibbled muffin!"


	2. Chapter 52

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO**

When he alighted on the lawns in the middle of Foxguard's courtyard, Klystra was surprised to find not a squirrel in sight.

Tolar was soon on the scene to greet the falcon captain. "Fly from Salamandastron at sunrise to come show Gawtrybe to site of Gawdrey, but no Gawtrybe here." Klystra's simple statement stood as both an obvious assessment and a demand for an answer.

Tolar was joined by Sappakit and several of the other senior swordfoxes as they clustered about the falcon on the sun-drenched greensward. "An unforeseen development has come up," the Sword explained. "A large company of rats came upon Redwall, and Lieutenant Custis took his brigade there to sort out the situation. Surely you noticed something when you flew over the Abbey? I'd hoped you would be bearing news of the state of things there."

Klystra shook his great feathered head. "Flew around Redwall, Lord Urthblood's orders, after running into Sparra last time, taking no chances - "

"MistaKlystra MistaKlystra!"

The falcon twisted his head around, suddenly finding himself being buzzed from all sides by the enthusiastic trio of Harpreet, Brybag and Skytop. Clacking his beak and looking stern, he waited for the Abbey birds to work off the worst of their immediate excitement and plop down onto the grass among the foxes. "Hmm. Always seem to be finding these unruly chicks where ought not to be, whether here at Foxguard or flying too high over Redwall."

"Lady Mina dispatched them here to alert us to the rats," Tolar clarified. "That's how Custis knew to take his force there."

Klystra cocked his head askance. "Mina sent youngbirds with such important summons, not older, more experienced Sparra?"

"Hey!" Skytop protested. "We got message here fine!"

"In good time too!" added Brybag.

"Didn't even tire us!" Harpreet boasted, then hung her head, sheepishly looking up at all the foxes who stood scowling at her. "Well, maybe just a little," she added in a timid cheep.

"There are indications Lady Mina may have been acting on her own, independently of the Abbey leaders," Tolar elucidated. "She might have sent these Sparra without the Abbot's knowledge, or blessing."

Klystra gave the fox chieftain a searching look. "Redwall not want to send for help with rats?"

"We think the rats may have gone there to seek sanctuary - and that the Abbey leaders may be considering their request."

The falcon was silent for a long time, digesting Tolar's words. "Sounds like things all of sudden very complicated. Very ... messy."

"I would agree with that, Captain."

"What Custis plan to do at Redwall?"

"Carry out his orders, of course. He was very clear on that point."

"Even if Redwall protecting rats?"

"He seemed very determined not to let anything get in his way."

Tolar's tone told the falcon all he needed to know. "Very messy," Klystra repeated. "You not go with squirrels?"

"Mina's summons was for the Gawtrybe, not us. We could not have kept up in any case - and I wasn't about to leave Foxguard understaffed."

"Ah. Good sense. So, no word from Abbey since?"

"No word, no. But I was up in the observation deck at first light to see what I could, and it appears the rats have been admitted to the Abbey. It's hard to tell for certain, even with the long glass."

"And the Gawtrybe?"

"Nowhere to be seen. Either they're on their way back here, or else they're camped out under the trees where we can't see them. I hope it's the former explanation; if Custis is keeping his Gawtrybe at Redwall, I fear nothing good will come of it."

"Lieutenant dedicated. Could be, too dedicated. Messy messy messy. How many rats?"

"A large company. We think at least a hundred, perhaps as many as twice that."

Klystra's eyes widened. "All at Abbey now?"

"So it would appear."

The falcon ruffled his feathers. "Must fly there now, see what is what. Then decide what to do." He looked to the three Sparra, and castigated them in a frustrated tone, "You featherfools cause much trouble. Never should have flown here with message of strife. Could now be clash between Redwall and Gawtrybe."

"We didn't know!"

"Only trying to help!"

"Important mission, Lady Mina said!"

"Important, not wise," Klystra scolded. "Now might have to undo what foolishbirds did, before can even decide what to be done."

"Will you be leaving at once, or will you need to rest, Captain?" Tolar asked. "If you need food or drink, we'll be happy to provide it."

"No, Sword. Caught fish, drank water from stream on way here. Could use rest, but Redwall short flight. Will rest at Abbey."

Tolar nodded toward the Sparra trio. "Will you be taking them with you? They were getting ready to fly back on their own, but I think it might be better to have a more experienced flier escort them. If you wouldn't mind?"

"Reasonable request. Don't mind." Klystra looked down his sharp, hooked beak at the Abbeybirds. "Have experience getting these ones out of trouble. Will see to it they get in no more!"

Soon after, the four avians were airborne, Klystra purposefully winging his way toward Redwall with measured flaps so as not to outpace his youthful companions. Harpreet, Skytop and Brybag, upon seeing the falcon's limited speed and altitude, made great sport of this latest adventure, swooping and circling around the larger bird as if it were just another of their games of tag. Indeed, anybeast watching them recede would have been hard pressed to tell that Klystra was the escort and the three Sparra were his charges of the moment.

"It's only going to get worse, you know."

Tolar glanced aside at the speaker, and realized that the limp-afflicted senior swordfox Mykola had joined him and Sappakit. "The rats are all inside the Abbey, or so our observations indicate," said the Sword. "At least armed conflict with the Redwallers seems to have been avoided. Or do you believe the Lieutenant will press the matter with the Abbeybeasts, even now that the rats are beyond his reach?"

"It gets worse no matter what he does. War with Redwall, or strained relations with Redwall - take your pick."

"I've never known you to be so pessimistic, Mikky. Now that Klystra is on the scene, the tensions may be diffused, and the situation salvaged. At the very least, Custis will have to stay his paw until orders arrive from Salamandastron, and that might keep him from doing anything rash. We should be thankful the Gawtrybe didn't overtake those rats while they were still in the open, and start a massacre with the Redwallers and the Guosim caught in the middle."

"How can we be sure that didn't happen? The spring forest canopy can hide a lot of corpses from our view."

Tolar grimaced. "We can't know for certain, of course, but until we receive confirmation to the contrary, I will assume there has been no undue loss of life, and this crisis has not passed the point of salvation."

"That can only be hoped. But even if no lives have been lost, if the Lieutenant is denied at Redwall, he will have no choice but to return here - and he will be most unhappy. Extremely unhappy - and looking for somebeast to blame."

Tolar dismissed this. "I can handle Custis."

"Even if Lord Urthblood takes his side over ours?" Mykola asked.

"What? In not slaughtering Redwallers, or destroying relations with that Abbey?"

"This campaign is very important to our master. He's made that very clear, both in his dispatches and through Custis. Perhaps he would sanction steps against Redwall, for harboring so large a number of rats. He may not be able to let such a thing stand."

"Then that will be between Lord Urthblood and his Gawtrybe. I will take part in no action against our Abbey allies."

"Even if ordered?"

"I seriously doubt any such orders will be forthcoming. In fact, I am counting on them not."

"Let us hope you are right, My Sword. But, if crisis is averted at Redwall, I still see things getting very troubling around here. Custis will not soon forget it if he feels he was undermined by us, and he'll be downright insufferable if Lord Urthblood backs him up in any way. Either way, I am not looking forward to his return."

"On that, at least, we agree, Mikky. But he and his Gawtrybe will soon be leaving to found Gawdrey, and then to focus on their campaign. Their trouble will be of limited duration, so we'll just grin and bear it, and they'll soon be out of our fur."

"Will they? Mossflower may be big, but I'm starting to wonder whether it's big enough for both Foxguard and the Gawtrybe."

Tolar shot an appraising glance Mykola's way. "In spite of any feelings we might have about this campaign, Mikky, and despite the current mess with those rats at Redwall, we and the Gawtrybe _are_ on the same side."

"I wish I could feel as sure of that as you sound, sir," Mykola said dourly, then gimped off to oversee the cadets' morning drills.

00000000000

Alexander carried his muffin outside with him, presenting the baked good to Harth as the kitchen trolleys were pushed across the lawns to serve the rats and their Guosim guardians.

The rat general graciously accepted the offered food, breaking the large muffin in half and passing one section to Grota. His underling was not quite so gracious about his late breakfast.

"Hey! This half's been gnawed on!"

"I'd call it lightly nibbled," Alex jibed, helping himself to a seat on the grass alongside the rats. "And by the cream of Redwall's squirrel crop. Don't worry, I'm not contagious - you won't catch Greenwood Fever from me, or suddenly sprout tufted ears and bushy fur on your tail!"

"I'd call that an improvement, if'n y' ask me," opined Log-a-Log, who'd come over to greet both Alex and Geoff, who'd accompanied his squirrel friend outside - mainly to escape Lekkas, who'd appeared in Great Hall perfectly timed to the Abbot's first bite of breakfast, and who had proceeded to harangue Geoff about letting the rats stay in Redwall.

"No offense," Harth said to Alex around a mouthful of his muffin, "but last thing we need 'round here is any more squirrels. So, Abbot, now that you've had a night to sleep on it, have you reached any firmer decision what's to become of us?"

"To be fair, friend Harth, it's only been half a night's sleep, if even that. I'm not inclined to commit to any course of action under duress - which means that as long as those Gawtrybe are outside out walls, threatening you with forced relocation and us with a siege, they are rather defeating their own purpose. I'll not give anybeast over into instant captivity and bondage."

"Well, I don't figger they're goin' anywhere, so you may be puttin' off that decision fer some time."

Latura arose and wandered over to the nearest trolley, all but drooling over its contents, as were the gaggle of other rats drawn to the food carts. Sister Apricot raised her ladle - which she'd brought along purely for brandishing purposes, since none of the breads and scones and cakes and muffins were anything that could be ladled - and admonished, "Stay your greedy paws, and no grabbing! You'll all be served in good order ... unless you make a scene, in which case these trolleys will go right back to the kitchens, and you'll not see them again until lunch! So line up properly, and mind your manners!"

Harth harrumphed a laugh through his full mouth. Swallowing, he observed, "Y' may've made us give up our weapons, but I see yer kitchen staff's well-armed with theirs!"

"I'd say 'er tongue's a sharper weapon than 'er big dipperspoon," Grota grumbled, painstakingly eating around the nibbled portion of his half-muffin.

Latura, having secured a scone for herself, ambled over to join them. "Hey, Abbotmousie! Why can't we eat inside on those nice benches 'n' tables, an' that big towel with th' Warrior on it?"

Geoff blinked at Alex. "Did ... did she just call our Abbey Tapestry a 'towel'?"

"Oh, sorry. Um, blanket?" At a recriminating glare from Geoff, Latura tried again. "Sheet? Anyways, why ain't we eatin' in there?"

Geoff drew himself up taller, placing paws in his sleeves. "That's because there are a great many creatures currently living at Redwall - some of whom you got to see yourself last night in Great Hall - who have grave misgivings about having rats in the Abbey, and they have good reason not to wish to mingle with you. It's best for everybeast if you remain out here, and they stay in there."

"That's all fine, Abbot - until it storms," Harth pointed out, finishing his muffin and wiping his paws on his tunic.

"We'll see about setting up some tent shelters for you out in the orchard," Geoff responded. "That will have to suit your needs for now."

Harth let slip a minor scowl. "Shelterin' under trees in a lightnin' storm ain't exactly my notion of smart ... "

"We don't get many thunderstorms in the spring."

"And if we do," Alex added with a mischievous grin, "you can always pop down into the Long Patrol tunnels to ride it out. I'm sure they'd be happy to host you."

Two of the hares making their rounds shot Alex a mortified look upon overhearing this, then moved on, muttering darkly between them.

"Any chance we'll be able to get our things back from outside?" Harth inquired. "We had some food provisions of our own, along with beddings, tentings, spare clothes an' some other things that might come in useful, an' make us less of a strain on you."

"Ah, about that," Alex replied, and proceeded to describe to Harth what he and his fellow squirrels had observed from the walltop earlier that morning.

The rat's face clouded over, although he kept his outward calm. "Shoulda known. They're not gonna do anything t' make it easy on any of us, are they?"

"I appears not." Geoff turned back to Latura, who'd plopped down onto the lawn between Harth and Alex. "My child, there was something I needed to ask you about. I didn't get a chance to go into it last night with so much else going on, but I need to know what you meant about Vanessa. You called her a deadbeast. Is she in peril?"

"Um ... wouldn't say that," Latura replied as she absently nibbled her scone.

"Then, why did you say what you did?" Geoff asked, surprised.

"'Cos it's true."

"I'm confused. Are you saying she's going to die, or not?"

"Course not."

"Well, that's a re - "

"She's already dead," Latura interrupted as she polished off her scone. "An' if ye're dead, y' can't die. That'd just be silly."

Geoff looked to Alexander, totally befuddled. "Am I the only one here who hasn't a clue what this creature is talking about?"

Alex only shrugged, at a loss himself, but Harth said, "Welcome t' my world, Abbot. Now y' see what I've been dealin' with ever since this simpleton fell inta my life ... "

Shouts from the walltop drew their attention then. As both Abbeybeasts and rats looked up, Brybag, Harpreet and Skytop came winging in over the east wall, playfully buzzing the lookouts there and wheeling over the lawns and orchard with the free-spirited, unbridled exuberance of their young seasons. Even before they could flutter down to greet any of their fellow Abbey creatures, Elmwood yelled down from the walltop, "One of Urthblood's big birds just arrived outside! Looks like he's flown down to consult with the Gawtrybe there!"

This alert was quickly relayed across the grounds to where Geoff and Alex tarried with the Guosim and Harth's rats. Abbot and Forest Patrol leader looked to each other. "Well, I wonder what this portends?" Geoff mused.

"It could be good," Alex surmised. "Or it could be bad."

"Yah, I'd say that pretty well covers it," Harth assessed.

"Big bird serves th' bad red," said Latura. "Don't mean us well, whatever he's doin' out there."

"That's likely as true as not," Alex agreed with a nod. "One thing's for sure: Urthblood is going to know about all of this pretty soon, if he doesn't already."

"Yes," Geoff concurred, "the question now is, is Klystra or whatever bird that is out there here to issue orders, or take a report? Urthblood may have learned of the Gawtrybe's move on Redwall from Tolar, using that signal mirror atop Foxguard, or he may be aware of it through his prophetic vision. With that badger, you can never tell."

"I don't think it could have been Foxguard," said Alex. "Whenever Tolar uses that giant mirror, whether it's reflecting sunlight during the day or firelight at night, we've always been able to see it before. And Foxguard has been silent in recent days. Not sure they've sent any messages so far this season, in fact."

"Hmm. Yet, if he did foresee this present impasse, you'd think he would have taken steps to keep it from happening at all."

"He _did_ try 'n' stop us!" Latura impatiently reminded Geoff. "Tried t' get us all turned 'round an' lost an' walkin' inta his badred squirrelies, but the other warrior helped us get here anyways. Think he's more powerful than badgery brute - least 'round here."

"Ah, we're back to that again, are we? Martin and Urthblood fighting off in some sphere beyond the physical world." Geoff looked over the top of his spectacles at Latura. "That's something else I really need to speak with you about, since so far Field Marshal Traveller and Brother Winokur are the only ones you've revealed this to directly. However, that shall have to wait. Right now we've got a raptor warrior outside our walls - and what comes next depends very heavily on just why he's here, and what precisely he - and his master - have in mind to do about all of this."

00000000000

Lieutenant Custis didn't know whether Klystra's appearance was a positive sign - but he did know it was a necessary one.

The falcon captain alighted on a stout ash limb hanging low over the former rat encampment, now occupied by the Gawtrybe. Custis had deployed his squirrels both along the forest floor and throughout the lower canopy, surrounding Redwall on two sides with additional scouts scattered in the south meadow and Western Plains, to make sure no rats tried to escape from any of the Abbey's gates. Custis and Mina perched upon a slightly higher maple branch adjacent to Klystra's ash, and both hastened over to the raptor officer with a rapid series of leaps and bounds.

"Captain!" Custis greeted. "What news from Salamandastron?"

Klystra gazed around him at the trees full of Gawtrybe, then looked back to Custis and Mina. "Hardly any, compared to news I find here. Flew out to guide you to Gawdrey site, instead find no squirrels at Foxguard, only Sword Tolar with report of many rats at Redwall and you rushing here to engage them. Appears you were too late."

"Too late to catch them in the open," Custis concurred with a nod. "But we've got them pinned down inside the Abbey, where none can venture outside the walls without us spotting them. The former searat slaves we escorted here from the coast clearly don't want to share Redwall with rats of any stripe, and it won't be logistically feasible for those rat fugitives to remain for very long - the Abbey simply doesn't have the space or the provisions. Especially if the Abbeybeasts aren't allowed outside to forage for extra food."

Klystra cocked his head. "So, is siege then?"

"We are still ... debating the merits of that," Mina answered.

"I honestly don't anticipate much of one," Custis explained in defense of his preferred strategy. "I'm sure the reality of their untenable situation will hit them soon, if it hasn't already. I suspect it won't take too many days before those rats come streaming out of the Abbey gates like a panicked river ... and we'll be here to collect them, or leave their arrow-filled bodies behind to decorate the ground of forest and field if they resist. A few may immediately elude us - but not for long."

"Many rats, from what Tolar said?"

"A hundred and a half to two hundred. And Captain Truax is in there too."

Klystra blinked in surprise. "From Northlands?"

"Aye. Somehow he avoided the sweeps up there, and was able to make it all the way to Redwall - with firstpaw accounts of the operations there. We may have wanted to spare Redwall the quandary of this campaign until it was fully underway, but that's no longer an option. They know all about it now."

"Then they will protect rats. Know Redwallers. That is what they will do. Think Mina will agree."

She nodded. "I'm afraid I do, Captain. But, then again ... "

"They won't protect them for long," Custis asserted. "Not if I can help it."

"Not sure siege wisest of ideas, Lieutenant."

"What other choice do we have?"

"That, Lord Urthblood's call."

Custis gave a nod of assent after a long pause, while Mina maintained her silence. "Yes, he must know of this. Your timing was most fortuitous in that regard. We'll hold here until you return with orders. Tell His Lordship we'll not let him down."

"Might say already did, scores of rats escaped into Redwall."

The Lieutenant reared back, stung by this haughty reprimand, while Mina stood impassive, knowing she'd done all she could to keep the rats out of Redwall and summon the Gawtrybe in good time, and had nothing to be ashamed about herself. "That is _not_ on us!" Custis protested. "Crucial information which may have averted this standoff was withheld from us - and if you want to know what I mean by that, ask Tolar the next time you see him. And while you're at at, ask him how a hundred and a half rats even knew to flee to Redwall for sanctuary in the first place."

"Now, Lieutenant ... " Mina cautioned. "We don't know that for sure."

"Am not understanding. Did Truax not warn other rats?"

"No," Mina answered, "he seems to have arrived separately, and from a different direction than the main company. We don't think they learned of this campaign from him."

"Then perhaps some other escapee from North?"

Custis shook his head. "Maybe, but I doubt it. Not when there's a much more plausible and obvious explanation at paw."

"Mean Foxguard?"

"Yes. I mean Foxguard."

"Makes no sense. Only informed Foxguard of campaign start of spring, my last flight out, not too many days ago. Not enough time to alert and mobilize so many rats, for them to get here by now."

"Unless they were already mobilized, and gathered together at one place. Their leader and fighters seem to have come from a horde, on the other side of the River Moss. Do you know anything of such a horde in nearer Mossflower?"

Klystra was a moment in replying. "Been watching horde in valley northeast of Foxguard. Not deemed threat."

"Were there rats among that horde, perchance? Say, a hundred and a half, including family beasts?"

"Could have been. Never flew low enough to count."

"Well, I bet there aren't now. And tell us, did Foxguard know of that horde?"

Another avian pause. "Foxguard knew."

"Then I think that says it all." This time, Mina voiced no dissent toward the Lieutenant's implied accusation.

Klystra ruffled his plumage and shifted from talon to talon in preparation for flight. "Must go into Abbey, speak with creatures there, see with own eyes."

"Into the Abbey? To what purpose? You'll learn nothing more than what Lady Mina and I have just told you."

"Am to report to Lord Urthblood. Must know all, so can report all."

And with that, Klystra launched himself from the branch, leaving Custis and Mina and the other nearer Gawtrybe swept up in the wind wake of his flapping departure.

00000000000

Alexander looked up from his seat on the lawn. "Well, that didn't take long. If Klystra stopped stopped to confer with Mina and the Lieutenant at all, it must have been pretty brief, because here he comes now." Glancing at the company of rats, he added, "And there they go."

The fugitive rodents, already nervous from reports of a large hunter bird just outside the Abbey, went into a panic at the appearance of Klystra flapping low over the east ramparts. While some sat or stood paralyzed with terror, alone in their fear or gripping onto friends or family, many others went into a blind frenzy, running this way or that with no particular aim or objective in mind, responding automatically to their instincts regarding so mighty a winged predator. Only the trained fighters, more disciplined in matters of confrontation and conflict, held their ground to a rat, perhaps confident in their military abilities, or perhaps merely aware of the fact that so large an assemblage had little to fear from the falcon.

Many of the Guosim and Long Patrol guarding Harth's company sought to calm and reassure the alarmed rats. "Settle down, settle down!" snapped off Sergeant Peppertail. "This's no wild scoffbeak prowlin' the skies for prey! He's an officer of Urthblood's - you've nothing to fear from this bloomin' pillowstuffer!"

"You so sure 'bout that, Sarge?" countered his fellow hare Telemaque. "If Bloodface's roundin' up all the rats in Mossflower, maybe this featherbag's got orders to start pluckin' 'em up one by one an' bear 'em off to Salamandastron, wot?"

"Oh, that's spiffin' smart in the ol' brainbox, Tells. Here we are tryin' to get this bunch o' uglies calmed down, an' you pop off like that! That'll really help our jolly cause!"

"Well, I was only sayin' wot could be true, Sarge ... "

"Do us a bally favor, then, an' from now on, keep your flippin' thoughts to yourself!"

As the rats scattered and cowered, Klystra gracefully set down on the lawns before Geoff and Alexander, oblivious or uncaring of the commotion he had caused. His keen aerial eyesight had allowed him to pinpoint the Abbot upon first cresting the walltop, and he wasted no time in making his way to Redwall's leader.

"Abbot," Klystra greeted with a respectful nod.

"Welcome, Captain. Although perhaps I should withhold any welcome until you've stated your purpose here."

The falcon glanced at Harth and Grota, who'd come to their footpaws with the proximity of the imposing raptor, and past them at all their fellow rodents. "Many rats here."

"Is that a problem?" Geoff asked searchingly.

"Yes. Is problem. You know of Lord Urthblood's newest campaign?"

"Giving all the land's rats to Tratton as a condition of peace? Yes, we know - and it seems to us that even Urthblood may have overreached this time."

"You intend to let rats stay?"

"They have asked for sanctuary, and they appear to have very compelling grounds for doing so. Now, if you have come from Salamandastron bearing threats and ultimatums ... "

"Came to guide Gawtrybe to site of Gawdrey. Did not find them at Foxguard, where supposed to be. And did not expect to find ... this." Klystra swept a wing toward the distressed rats.

"So, Lord Urthblood did not know of these rats coming to Redwall?"

"Appears not. Did not tell me."

"So much for his prophetic powers," Alex muttered to Geoff.

"Do you know what Urthblood is likely to make of this situation, or want to do about it?" the Abbot inquired of Klystra.

"Cannot say. Was not to involve Redwall."

"So we keep hearing. Honestly, Captain, how did Urthblood imagine he would be able to embark upon such a thing here in Mossflower without us becoming involved at some point, in some way? Redwall is known far and wide as a haven of safety for creatures in need, so it seems almost inevitable that some would have tried to make it here. Did that not occur to him?"

"Not this many, not this soon. Too many rats here, will upset entire campaign. Must tell Lord Urthblood of this, let him decide." Klystra leveled a probing gaze at Geoff. "Abbot, what shall I tell him is Redwall's position?"

"We will not hand over creatures to a fate of possible bondage, slavery and gross mistreatment. If these rats prove they are able to live among us in peace and follow our rules, we will have no cause to turn them out ... and doing so would violate everything we stand for."

"And if he decides otherwise? Any room for negotiations or compromise?"

"Tell Lord Urthblood that we were never a signatory to his Accord with Tratton, nor were we consulted about anything to do with it, before the fact or afterward. We therefore feel no obligation to observe its conditions. We will not compromise our morals or principles, and we will not negotiate away the freedom of anybeast within our walls."

Klystra digested this, then gave a nod of understanding. "Straightforward. Will be easy to convey. I fly to Salamandastron now, inform Lord Urthblood of situation, take his orders once decision made what to do, return here with word, maybe today, maybe tomorrow. Until then, do nothing to provoke Gawtrybe or aggravate situation."

Alex snorted. "I think we've already provoked Lieutenant Custis as much as he can be provoked, just by sticking to our beliefs. And aggravated him too."

"Will tell him to stand firm and take no further action until I return."

"Will he listen to you?" Alex worried aloud.

The falcon ruffled in agitation. "Klystra captain, Custis lieutenant. Will listen."

"Captain," said Geoff, "please impress upon your master that we do not agree with what he is doing, and think he has exceeded his authority here in Mossflower with this so-called Purge of his. We can't help what he does in the Northlands, but here in our local forests and fields, Redwall has always held greater sway than any outside power. If he seeks to prevent refuge-seeking rats from reaching our gates, or tries to prohibit us from sheltering even those we've already taken in, then we will be left no choice but to oppose him. Make sure he is aware of this."

Klystra's beak gave a wry twist. "Suspect Lord Urthblood will know without Klystra having to tell. But he must decide what to do about this."

"And if he decides to do what Custis wants, to place us under siege - or worse?" Geoff pressed.

"Decision his," Klystra repeated noncommittally. "Will return when I return." And with that, the armored falcon sprang from the ground with a powerful kick of his talons and a tumultuous flapping of his wide wings, lifting off from the Abbey lawns and rising skyward until he cleared the east wall. The lookouts there saw him swoop low over the assembled Gawtrybe and call out something curt to Custis and Mina, and then Klystra rose higher and turned west, clearing the highest roofpeaks of Redwall and pushing through the clear spring air toward Salamandastron.

"Well, I suppose we'll soon know which way this is going to go," Alex remarked as they all stood watching Klystra dwindle into the distance.

"What if that badger presses th' matter, an' insists you turn us all over to his squirrels?" Harth asked Geoff.

The mouse gave a shuddering sigh. "Then we shall have to wait and see just how badly Urthblood wants to force the issue, and risk his relations with Redwall. I must say, standing up to Klystra like that just now - and, by extension, standing up to Urthblood himself - has my heart hammering inside my chest and my paws a little sweaty. I just hope the defining moment of my tenure as Abbot doesn't boil down to the moment I declared myself opposed to Lord Urthblood, because I'm not entirely sure how that would work out."

"Might be the best thing any Abbot or Abbess could have done under the circumstances," Alex backed up Geoff. "Urthblood's got to learn he doesn't have free rein to do whatever he wants to anybeast, anywhere in the lands. The line has to be drawn somewhere, and if we don't, who will?"

"Perhaps." Geoff turned to leave. "For now, I must consult with Highwing and see what's to be done about disciplining three very naughty Sparra students of ours!"


	3. Chapter 53

**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE**

With everybeast else out watching the spectacle of Klystra's impromptu meeting with the Abbot, Tibball found that he had Great Hall largely to himself for his midmorning breakfast.

Seeing no reason not to seat himself at the head table, the hungry and well-rested rabbit tucked into a sampling of cakes snagged off one of the passing ratbound trolleys, to looks of slight indignation from the brother pushing the cart. That server was given additional cause for eye-rolling when first Winokur and then Arlyn and Metellus appeared on the scene, joining Tibball at table for late breakfasts of their own.

"I can't believe I slept so late, with so much going on," the otter Recorder chastised himself. "I'd really wanted to rise earlier than this, to check on Latura and her fellow villagers. At least I could see from the second story windows that all the rats still seem to be here, so I gather we were spared any Gawtrybe incursions overnight, and Geoff is sticking by his decision to allow the rats to shelter here until we know more."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Wink," Arlyn advised. "You were up very late helping our rat guests get settled in for the night - or what was left of the night, at any rate - and with all the excitement that was centered around you and them, it's hardly surprising that you must have been exhausted. You were entitled to a little extra shuteye as much as anybeast ever was, I would say."

Arlyn turned to Tibball, who seemed both self-conscious about being joined by these Abbey luminaries but also alert to other creatures passing by through the Hall. "Friend Tibball, I see you're having a late breakfast yourself ... "

"Well, with so much going on last night, I imagine it's rather a late morning for all of us, as you've just been saying."

The others regarded him with quizzical looks. "But, you weren't down here for any of the confrontation and council last night," Winokur said. "You slept right through all of it, as far as I'm aware."

"Well, um, yes, er ... but I was still quite tired myself from all that happened to me before coming to Redwall. Falling into the company of those uncouth, barbaric rats, then having to endure that forced march here to the Abbey ... it was all quite tiring."

"Forced march?" Winokur repeated, incredulous. "I was on that march too, and there was nothing forced about it. In fact, we had to keep to a measured pace on account of the oldsters and youngrats and ratwives we had with us."

Hemming and hawing at having been called out twice in such quick succession, Tibball sputtered, "Well, truth to tell, I've always been partial to a late sleep once in a while, and the beds here are very comfortable - as comfortable as the food is good, in fact," he added, biting off another mouthful of seedcake. "If only the hedgehog in the next bed hadn't been snoring quite so loud."

"I'm sure Sister Wellspring will appreciate that," Arlyn commented with a chuckle.

"So," Tibball continued, "am I to take it from your earlier conversation that all the rats were allowed in last night? What led the Abbot to change his mind so quickly?"

"Oh, Wink here had more than a little to do with that," Arlyn said with a knowing smile. "As did Latura herself, and Field Marshal Traveller, and even a former rat captain of Lord Urthblood's who escaped here from the Northlands and happened to arrive at our north gate overnight as well, with tidings of dire portent for ratkind. Winokur got them all inside just before the Gawtrybe showed up in force, threatening to put us under siege unless we turn them all over."

Tibball sputtered anew, this time spraying out bits of his half-chewed seedcake, making the others glad they'd not seated themselves any closer to the rabbit. "Under siege? Can they do that?"

"If they do it, they can," came Arlyn's dry reply.

"What are they even doing here?" Tibball went on. "How did they know to come?"

"They must have spotted the rats from Foxguard's tower, as we feared they might," Winokur surmised, still unaware of the overnight revelation about Mina's dispatchment of the three Sparra. "Either that, or Lord Urthblood foresaw all this and sent word for the Gawtrybe to try to intercept the refugees."

"If that's the case," Arlyn commented, "he didn't foresee very well, or else his timing wasn't very good. Not good enough to prevent them from getting into Redwall before he could stop them."

"I suspect Lattie may've had something to do with that," Winokur said. "She's made it pretty clear that Urthblood was, on some level, trying to block her from getting to Redwall, while Martin was helping her. And then there's that mysterious link she seems to share with Vanessa, not to mention any gift or power Lattie might possess of her own. Urthblood had an army of forces working against him this time, and for a change it appears he didn't get his way."

"That's all ... very interesting," said Tibball, resuming his surveyance of Great Hall as he started into his second cake. "Say, neither of you happened to see any of the Long Patrol about on your way down here, did you?"

"Most of them were up all night guarding the gates and walls," Arlyn replied. "I think some of them still are, and I imagine the rest are catching up on their sleep. Why do you ask?"

"Well, they're the Long Patrol," Tibball answered, as if that explained it all. "What self-respecting rabbit wouldn't look up to them, be inspired by them, and want to spend as much time with them as he could, while he's got the chance?"

"Smitten, are we? You must have been disappointed that they didn't have room for you to bunk down in their tunnels with them. But I did see a few out and about this morning from the Infirmary window, so if you'd like to run along, I'm sure you can catch one or two of them without distracting them from their duties too much."

"A wonderful idea, Abbot! Um, I do call you Abbot, don't I? I know Redwall has more than one these days ... "

"Abbot is fine, for either me or Geoff," Arlyn provided.

"Oh, good. I'll, uh, just be on my way then ... " Washing down his current mouthful of currant spicebread with a generous quaff of pennycress cordial, Tibball shot up from the table with the last of his helping of breakfast and hastened out of Great Hall onto the lawns. Arlyn, Winokur and Metellus shared a chuckle as they watched him go.

"Is it just me, or does that one eat almost as much as a hare?" Metellus commented.

"He's a hungry little bunny, no doubt of that," Arlyn said. "Must not be accustomed to food as good as ours, although then, whatbeast is?"

"He reminds me of a youngster, even though he's clearly not," Wink weighed in. "I think some of my older pupils comport themselves with more maturity than that."

"That's what comes of being a bachelor beast, living on your own in the wilds of Mossflower," said Arlyn. "If you've no family of your own to be responsible for, sometimes you can become a permanent youngbeast, and just live life from one day to the next."

Changing subjects, Winokur said to the other two, "I'm actually glad you both came down when you did. There was a matter I wanted to ask you about, ideally when there weren't too many others around."

"What is it, Wink?"

"Well, there's really no way to broach the subject delicately, so I'll just come right out and say it: I believe our newest guests present us with something of a flea problem."

"Well, perhaps that's hardly surprising - at the risk of sounding prejudicial to their species. But it's no secret that any creatures living in the wild are more prone to such infestations, and vermin and hordesbeasts moreso than most. How did you, ah, discover this, if I may ask?"

"Got very itchy during the march here from the quarry, and noticed many of the rats scratching at themselves as well. Fortunately, a long dip in the cold Moss and a long heating of my habit over a fire got rid of the problem, except for the bites I'd already suffered. Unfortunately, rats aren't as receptive to swims as much as otters are, and I'm afraid our visitors have brought along their own unbidden guests."

Arlyn nodded. "It's no big crisis. Our healers' journals reference any number of remedies we can whip up that will effectively treat flea-infested fur. I just hope we have enough of the necessary ingredients on paw to minister to so many patients. It's been quite some time since Redwall last had to cope with any large outbreak of fleas."

Metellus grinned in spite of himself. "Vermin with vermin."

"Yes, you could say that," Arlyn agreed, "although I wouldn't let any of our rat friends hear you say it. If they're to be staying with us awhile, we'd best stop thinking of them and referring to them by that term."

"It's funny," Winokur ruminated, "but when Urthblood first came to us seven seasons ago with rats and weasels and foxes under arms, urging us to see them as fellow goodbeasts rather than villains and enemies, we wondered if we could ever adjust to such a radical new idea. Now, I'd say Urthblood has succeeded in winning us over to that viewpoint more than he probably wishes he ever had!"

00000000000

Finishing his breakfast conversation with Arlyn and Metellus, Winokur ventured outside to see how things were going with Latura and the other rats. There he found Harth and Log-a-Log engaged in a somewhat heated discussion.

"I don't trust that bird, an' I don't trust that badger, anymore'n I trust their squirrel allies. Somethin's gotta be done."

"Aw, go cool yer heels in th' pond, rat. Nobeast 'n' nobird's gonna violate Redwall's sanctuary while the Abbot's declared you under his protectshun, so stop gettin' yer whiskers grayer."

"You don't know that for sure, shrew, not after th' way that head bushtail was threat'nin' us. You think he'd be so bold if he didn't think there was at least some chance his badger master'd back him up? An' if he gives his redfurred killers free rein t' do as they please, only makes sense he'd tell his birds to do th' same, right? An' unlike any ground creature, those winged terrors can swoop right over these walls an' pluck us up an' carry us away one or even two at a time, an' there's naught we'd be able t' do about it, now that we've been stripped of all our weapons."

"We might've taken _your_ weapons, but ev'rybeast else 'round here's still got theirs, an' any bird who tries any dirty tricks'll find our shafts 'n' slingstones answerin' 'em."

"Just how many birds like that does that badger got fer 'imself?"

"Um ... sev'ral. I think. Never got any kinda count from 'im."

Winokur stepped in at this point. "If it would make you feel more at ease, General, we can have you all moved to the orchard, under the trees there. It wouldn't absolutely guarantee that none of Urthblood's birds could reach you if they've a mind to, but it would make it much harder for any winged creature to get at you."

Harth's demeanor instantly softened at being presented with a more accommodating creature. "Aye, that'd be much appreciated, friend. Can we get on that right away?"

"I don't see why not. You probably want to clear it with Alexander first, since he's the senior defender currently at the Abbey, but I can't see him objecting."

Harth's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You all really trust him, bein' wed to that Gawtrybe harridan? She ain't even in here with him now, choosin' instead to be outside schemin' an' conspirin' against us. You don't think there's any chance he's got split loyalties, an' might side with her in this?"

Winokur drew himself up at this imprecation of a respected Redwaller. "Alexander was one of our chief defenders and head of the Mossflower Patrol long before Mina ever came into his life, and he takes those duties very seriously. In matters of Abbey security, he takes his orders from the Abbot, not from his wife, and he'd not do anything to compromise your safety. In fact, I suspect he's quite irate with Mina over having hidden so much from him, moreso than he's allowing himself to show." Wink almost immediately regretted this last part; it didn't do to air dirty Abbey laundry in front of visitors, especially ones at the center of such contentious issues. "So, where is Latura?"

"She headed up to th' walltop short while ago," Harth replied. "Wanted t' see the views, even after that bird came by. Told her t' keep her head down, in case those squirrels might have it in mind t' take potshots at any rat they see peekin' over the walls, but that Lattie, she ain't got th' sense of a patch of moss most times. Mebbe you'd like t' go up an' keep an eye on her? She seems to take better to you than anybeast else, 'ceptin' some of her family an' friends from her village."

"I was just about to seek her out anyway." Before taking his leave, Winokur turned to Log-a-Log. "So, which one of Urthblood's birds was here anyway, and what did he have to say?"

"It was that falcon, Klystra," the shrew replied, and proceeded to relate to the otter Recorder everything that had been said between Klystra and the Abbot. "So now," he concluded, "I reckon it's just a waitin' game, until he gets back here from Salamandastron with word on how Lord Urthblood wants things t' go here. I'm hopin' that badger will show better sense than his squirrels an' know enuff t' leave Redwall to its own affairs, altho' - " Here Log-a-Log looked to Harth. " - we got some here who ain't 'xactly confident 'bout common sense winnin' the day."

"Only time and Klystra will tell. Well, while we're waiting, let me go up and see that our favorite prophetic ratmaid stays out of trouble." Winokur nodded his farewells, strode across the lawns to the south wallsteps, ascended the stone stairs and set about circling the ramparts in search of Latura. Naturally, he found her in the one place where she would know the least safety: midway along the east walltop, directly overlooking the forest fringe her own company had previously occupied, and which now hosted the hosts of Custis's Gawtrybe. Although she peered over the battlements most unselfconsciously, no shaft sought out the target her head and shoulders offered. Clearly, the Northland squirrels were taking seriously Klystra's edict not to provoke any incidents before Urthblood was fully appraised of the situation and could make his judgment known.

"Heya, Greenpup!" she greeted with her usual grinning enthusiasm.

"Morning, Lattie. How are you today?"

"Me?" The question seemed to catch her off guard, as if it were something nobeast ever asked her. "I'm just me. You slept late, Greenpup!"

"Yes, I did, didn't I? You kept me up rather late last night - you, and Captain Truax, and Lieutenant Custis. Perhaps my bed's too comfortable for my own good, because I certainly didn't want to leave it this morning!"

"Will I get a nice comfy bed too someday?"

"I certainly hope so, someday. Redwall's a bit overcrowded now, but once Freetown's built, a lot of the former slaves will be moving there, so that should free up some space in the dormitories. Maybe not enough for everybeast, but I'm sure your fellow rats would agree that you deserve to be at the head of the line for any vacancies that open."

"That'd be nice. Sleepin' on th' ground's no fun after y've done it too much. Hey, where's that sillymousie, th' one who threw sweetnuts at me?"

"You mean Vanessa? The one you ... called a deadbeast?"

"Ayup. Where's she at?"

"That's a very good question. She seems to have grown very adept these days at hiding herself away where nobeast can find her. But, why do you call her a deadbeast?"

"It's what she is, ain't it? Can'tcha see it yerself?"

"She looks very much alive to me - or at least she did, last time I saw her. You know, she used to be our Abbess."

"Well, she ain't no more."

"Of course. But ever since her injury, we've always held out hope that she might recover someday, if only partly, and that the Vanessa we knew might return to us. I guess you're telling us now that there's no chance of that coming to pass?"

"Once ye're dead, y' don't come back."

"Oh, so you mean Nessa's dead in a figurative sense? That's what had us wondering, and worried. But, what do you see in store for her now? Does she get any worse, or just stay like she is now?"

Latura gazed wordlessly out at the forest for so long that Wink began to doubt she'd heard him. Then she said, "It's hard. She's a hard one. There's a lot about this place that hides things from me, but she's like a hidden thing inside another hidden thing. Can't really see what's goin' on with her, but it's somethin' ... odd. Never seen it b'fore. Can't figger her out. Gotta spend more time with 'er."

"Yes, the Abbot has been trying to arrange that, but so far Nessa hasn't proven very cooperative. I'm sure it will happen in its own good time, and maybe then you'll be able to take her measure and get a little better idea what's going on with her. In the meantime ... " Winokur put his arm around Latura's shoulders and guided her away from the spot where she stood. "Why don't we go away from where all those mean, nasty squirrels are, and around to another part of the walltop? The southern meadows are beautiful this time of the morning, and the Western Plains are magnificent!"

"Well, okay. You lead th' way, Greenpup!"

And so he did, around the south curve of the walltop past all Alexander's squirrels and other Abbeybeasts standing watch on the ramparts, above the fields outside the south wallgate which didn't seem to hold much interest for her, and all the way around to the opposite side of Redwall, above the main gates and gazing out at the Western Plains, now shimmering green and multihued beneath the high morning sun that lit all the white and yellow and purple spring flowers dotting the wide vista.

"This's very beautiful," Latura said.

Wink smiled. "Yes, I knew you'd like it."

Her face clouded slightly as she stared out over the rolling plains, past them to the misty line of mountains beyond. "That's where he lives, ain't it? Th' big red badger ... "

Winokur nodded. "Yes, but he's very far away, all the way out on the shores of the Western Sea. It's a journey of many days, even if you take the shortest route through the mountains. The long way around, it can take the better part of a season. So don't worry, you're well beyond his reach here."

"How can that be, Greenpup? He's ev'rywhere. He's even fightin' yer warrior Martymouse up in th' sky."

This sobered the otter, thinking both of what Latura had said the night before in front of the Tapestry and also of the Gawtrybe camped outside their walls, threatening a siege. "Lattie, what do you see coming of this? Of the clash between Redwall and Urthblood? Where does it go from here, and how does it end? Is that badger truly an enemy of this Abbey, or just doing what he must for the safety of the lands?"

"He's th' bad red. Beyond that ... " Latura gave a shrug. "Seer hides th' seer, y' know."

Winokur's eyes widened. "What?"

"Well, that's what I heard, somewheres. Not sure where."

"No. Of course not. It's just, that's the second time this season I've heard somebeast use that phrase, and both times it was from a creature I'd not have expected."

"Was the other one Nessa deadmouse?"

"Yes, it was - although I think we'd all prefer it if you didn't call her that. She's still very special to us, and some might find it insulting or upsetting to hear our former Abbess referred to that way. Just Nessa is fine, or even sillymouse, if you like."

"Okay. Whatever."

For some time the two of them stood there in silence, staring out at the fine and peaceful panorama. Suddenly, Winokur straightened.

"Hey, if it's true that the seer really does hide the seer, does that mean you're hidden from Urthblood? Or that he can't see what's going on at Redwall right now, because you're here?"

"Um ... dunno."

"Oh." Winokur leaned forward, chin on his paws. "Well, it certainly gives us something else to ponder, doesn't it? Maybe someday we'll find out."

00000000000

The rats were almost entirely relocated to the orchard by the time Klystra reappeared at the Abbey. But the apprehensive rodents barely realized the falcon was there at all, since the bird captain skimmed right over Redwall, dropping into the forest outside the eastern walls to report directly to Custis and Mina.

"Lord Urthblood says disengage, fall back to Foxguard," Klystra told the squirrels. "Not to provoke hostilities with Redwallers. He will deal with them himself."

"Deal with them?" Mina echoed. "Does he plan direct military action against the Abbey?"

Klystra shook his head furiously. "No confrontation with Redwall. Hostilities to be avoided at all costs."

"Does he realize there are almost two hundred rats inside, practically thumbing their noses at us?" Custis demanded.

"He knows all important to know. Gawtrybe return to Foxguard, I meet up with you there."

Frustration and disappointment showed plainly on the lieutenant's face. "And then what?"

"Gawtrybe to be split. Half go with me to begin construction of Gawdrey. Other half to commence campaign immediately, not wait. Captain Scarbatta's gulls to help with scouting, more reinforcements from Northlands if you need, but no more rats to reach Redwall."

"On that, at least, we agree," Custis said, somewhat mollified. "But the only way to make sure no more rats escape to Redwall - or that the ones already here don't try to escape to some other part of the lands - is to station a cordon of Gawtrybe around the Abbey to prevent any more from getting through. A squad or two will have to stay behind for that."

"Your discretion. You commander on site. But wider campaign now top priority, before word of what happened here spreads."

"In that case ... " Custis beckoned Chetwynd over to him. "Sergeant, I'm leaving you here in charge of securing Redwall. How many squirrels do you think you'll need?"

"No more than five or six for each of the north and east walls, sir. It's the other approaches that worry me. We Gawtrybe may own the forest, but we can't move nearly as fast across open meadow or plain, nor conceal ourselves there as easily."

"I see no problem, Sergeant. No rat can outrun a Gawtrybe shaft, and the lack of concealment works both ways, meaning you'll be able to spot anybeast approaching from far off. I'll assign you a score - that way you'll have five to watch each wall. Deploy them as you see fit. And if we really are getting some of Scarbatta's gulls, I'll send one or two your way, to keep communications open between your squad and Foxguard. That way, if you need to report anything to us quickly, you'll not have to send a squirrel all the way to the tower." Custis shot a glance Mina's way. "Since I very much doubt any more of Redwall's Sparra will be available for such purposes."

"Indeed not," she affirmed. "Not even our three impetuous youngbirds will be coaxed into such a mission a second time. I imagine the Abbot has given them quite a scolding by now - for all that any scolding is likely to take with that trio."

"I hope your initiative in that matter won't inconvenience you too greatly yourself, Lady."

Mina dismissed the lieutenant's concern with the wave of a paw. "I did what I had to do. As a sworn ally of Lord Urthblood's. The Abbot can hold no censure over me that I'm not willing to bear, or that will mean anything to me. I am sure of both my purpose and my place in this, and regret nothing."

"It wasn't just the Abbot I was thinking of - if I may be so bold, M'Lady."

"Alexander and I share a deeper bond than anything this affair might sunder. Things between us might be somewhat frosty at present, but that will pass."

"As long as our differences with Redwall don't move to open strife."

Mina nodded toward Klystra. "According to the Captain here, that's to be avoided above all else, by direct order of Lord Urthblood himself. And while it pains us that so many rats escaped us, I daresay His Lordship likely shows the better wisdom in this judgment."

"Yes," Klystra emphasized with a clack of his hooked beak, "no hostilities with Redwall. Highest of orders."

"I guess that's it then." Custis adjusted the quiver on his back. "I see no reason for waiting here further. If Lord Urthblood wants us back at Foxguard, we might as well be on our way forthwith. We've tarried here long enough, to no purpose but to raise tensions while achieving nothing, and I'm eager to embark on some labors which might show real results at the end of the day. Captain, will you be flying directly to Foxguard?"

"Must report first to Abbey leaders, assure them under no threat. Relations must be preserved."

"That's between them and Lord Urthblood now - diplomacy is his area, not mine. Besides, I have other matters to address at Foxguard in addition to the commencement of the wider campaign. In fact, I need to make sure they'll do nothing further to interfere with it."

"That's assuming they've interfered with it already, and you've no proof they've done anything in that regard to begin with," Mina cautioned Custis. "This is Tolar's swordfox brigade we're talking about here. I'd tread carefully with your accusations, Lieutenant."

"I've some ideas on that front, M'Lady, and I think I know just where to start - and who to start with. If there's smoke, there's usually fire, and I fully intend to get to the bottom of whatever's smoldering there."

"As Lady says, go carefully at Foxguard, Lieutenant," Klystra seconded. "Tolar and foxes necessary to campaign. Must not ruffle fur too much."

Custis met the falcon's gaze. "That's fine advice - if my suspicions are groundless. But if they're not, going easy will only invite further deception. This matter must be confronted directly and to my satisfaction, or else I will only risk being undercut further."

"Perhaps I should accompany you to Foxguard," Mina suggested. "Creatures tempted to withhold things from you might prove much more forthcoming to the High Lady of the Gawtrybe."

"I really would not ask you to inconvenience yourself so, Lady. Your place is here at Redwall, and there should be somebeast on paw to speak for Lord Urthblood in any further deliberations these Abbeyfolk undertake regarding this campaign. I am only thinking of where you would do the most good."

"Appreciated, Lieutenant. But your suspicions have raised questions demanding answers, and I for one am as eager as anybeast to find those answers. Now that you've been ordered to fall back from Redwall, I deem the situation here has stabilized enough that I can be spared from the Abbey for a few days - especially if my presence at Foxguard might help loosen a few tongues, or get to the truth more quickly."

"This all for you to decide between selves," Klystra declared. "Must be away now to inform Abbeybeasts of situation, then off to Foxguard. Will meet you there this evening." The falcon spread his wings and lifted up toward the rosy-hued walls, effortlessly clearing the east ramparts before dipping below them toward the Abbey grounds.

"This evening, he says," Custis snorted. "Just like a bird to say such a thing, who can fly to and from Salamandastron twice in a single day. It'll take us most of the way until sundown just to reach the Moss, and then there's the crossing to make, followed by a slog through open meadowlands until we reach forest again. We'll be lucky if we're back at Foxguard before midnight."

Mina squared her shoulders. "Then we'd better get going, hadn't we?"


	4. Chapter 54

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR**

"Aren't you at all worried about everything that's going on?" Trelayne asked Mona as they sat upon Foxguard's curved walltop, enjoying a light afternoon meal along with Kyslith and Roxroy. "With the tensions between Tolar and Custis, and the rats at Redwall?"

"Why should I be?" the vixen replied, nibbling at a simple mushroom and leek pastie. "Foxguard and the Gawtrybe are allies in a greater cause, so there can be no real strife between them. And it appears violence and bloodshed has been avoided at the Abbey, at least as far as we can tell. I'm sure any disagreements between these various parties will be worked out to everybeast's satisfaction, in good time."

"I'm not so sure about that, ma'am," Roxroy begged to differ. "The Redwallers might not agree with the campaign Lord Urthblood has ordered. And if they don't agree with it, there's a chance they might oppose it."

"I'd say they already are," opined Kyslith, "if they've taken in all those rats who went there. I wonder what Lieutenant Custis intends to do about it?"

"More like what Lord Urthblood plans to do about it," said Mona. "Now that Klystra is on the scene, Custis will be able to get his orders directly from Salamandastron, without trying to guess what Lord Urthblood might prefer that he do."

"Needless to say," Trelayne admitted, "Kyslith and I knew about this campaign while we were staying at Redwall, since we were after all working at the mountain when the Accord was finalized, and were on paw to witness the delivery of Lord Urthblood's rats stationed there over to Tratton's ships. There were very mixed feelings that day amongst the other armybeasts, and I imagined the Redwallers might hold equally mixed feelings about this matter, as now seems to have been proven. I really wasn't comfortable keeping such a thing from my gracious hosts, but since they never questioned me directly, I never had to outright lie about it either, but still ... "

"I can relate to that," said Roxroy. "The Redwallers have become friends of mine - Winokur in particular - and all I can say is, I'm glad we've not had occasion to visit the Abbey since Klystra first informed us of this upcoming campaign earlier this season. I'd not have been able to look anybeast there in the eye, had I known of this and been forbidden to speak of it to them."

"Then again," Trelayne countered, "we couldn't know for certain that the Redwallers would be upset over all this. I mean, it is rats we're talking about here, after all. I imagine some of those Abbeyfolk might almost welcome their removal from Mossflower. It's not a species they'd normally look upon favorably - especially after what I heard happened during Lord Urthblood's first visit to Redwall, summer before last."

"That's not the way they think," Roxroy sharply corrected the marten glassmaker. "They are good-hearted, and open-minded, and would never condemn an entire species based on the misdeeds of a few."

"It would seem you are correct in that assessment, my young friend, to judge by all the rats they've just taken in," Trelayne conceded. "And I still cannot see how this will not cause frictions between Lord Urthblood and Redwall, and create complications for us here ... or why everybeast here shouldn't be concerned about the current state of affairs." He directed this last toward Mona.

"I am Foxguard's healer. Not only does that mean I expect to play no direct role in this campaign, but that too many creatures depend on my skills for any of them to risk antagonizing me. That holds true for my fellow foxes, the squirrels of the Gawtrybe, and the Redwallers as well. So I personally expect no grief from any quarter - nor will I tolerate it."

"The Gawtrybe have healers of their own," Trelayne pointed out. "They would not be entirely dependent on you for such needs, should Custis's misplaced ire toward Tolar continue unabated."

"Sappakit alone is worth any ten Gawtrybe healers," Mona scoffed.

"And you're worth ten Sappakits," Roxroy admiringly told Mona.

"Thank you, Rox. But the plain truth is, I do not see anything dire coming of any of this, now that the moment of crisis has apparently passed. If any Redwallers or their allies had lost their lives, then it would be an entirely different matter, but since they haven't ... "

"We still don't know that for certain," said Trelayne with a furrowed brow of worry.

"We've seen no signs of fighting in or around the Abbey, and our latest observations from the high watch indicate the rats are indeed inside Redwall. It fully appears Custis arrived too late to engage them, or the Redwallers. As I said, crisis averted - if only narrowly."

"That was still awfully brash of the lieutenant to go racing off to Redwall with confrontation in mind, in spite of our Sword's warnings," said Roxroy. "And if he feels strongly enough that Redwall broke Lord Urthblood's mandate by giving sanctuary to those rats, he might still seek some strategy to try to force them out."

"That's my fear as well," Trelayne agreed. "Not only is the lieutenant very zealous in his assigned duties, but can Lord Urthblood afford to let so many rats escape this Purge of his, right in the heart of Mossflower?"

"Only that badger can decide that," Mona allowed. "But I cannot see open conflict with Redwall as an option, no matter how many rats they have taken in. If Lord Urthblood wants them out, I suspect he will engage in aggressive negotiations, but stop short of any military action - and Klystra will make sure Lord Urthblood's wishes are known to Custis ... and to us, for that matter."

"I just hope the lieutenant has cooled down a bit when he comes back to Foxguard," Roxroy said. "He was awfully hot under the collar when he stormed off, and being denied his prize might not improve his disposition any."

"He might not even return here at all," Mona reminded her companions. "The only reason Klystra came to us this morning was to guide the Gawtrybe to the site chosen for Gawdrey. It could be that he'll lead them directly there from Redwall."

"Not likely, my dear." Trelayne gestured down at the Gawtrybe carts parked in the courtyard. "They'll not be building their woodland fortress without their tools and supplies. They'll have to return here, if only briefly, whether they want to or not."

"Good point," Mona conceded.

The marten leaned back against the low battlement wall, taking up his flask of cool river water. "I suppose your outlook is best, Mona my child. These things are beyond our control for the moment, and we've naught to gain by fretting about the worst that might happen, so we may as well hope that all will work out for the best. It's far too beautiful a day to let clouds of worry darken our good cheer. And it is good to be out here in the sun and fresh spring air, taking a well-deserved break from our labors. Up in the Northlands, these breezes would still carry a hint of winter's chill to them at this time of year."

"And how go your labors?" Mona inquired.

"Oh, splendidly, splendidly. We've nearly finished distilling the first full batch of concentrated vitriol, so we should be able to start the actual shaping and sculpting tomorrow. Of course, for a piece this size, it will be a very long and involved process, requiring multiple batches. It will take quite a few days to complete."

"And I assume the other work going on down there isn't distracting you unduly?"

"Well, all those weasels hammering and pounding can get to be a bit much, but at least we're in our own separate chamber, largely isolated from the rest of the cellars by thick stone walls. In all truth, sometimes I become so immersed in my work that I totally block out all the other noise, and I don't even realize it's there!"

"It's true," Kyslith affirmed with a nod. "When Master Trelayne is fully concentrating upon his artistic efforts, the walls and ceiling could be collapsing around him, and he wouldn't notice!"

"And what of you, good Kyslith?" Mona inquired. "Are you finding yourself more at ease at Foxguard, now that you've been here for awhile?"

"Oh, yes. Mainly thanks to Roxroy here, and Mykola as well. You were wise to suggest I seek them out, and I do thank you for that. My work with Master Trelayne has kept me too busy to do much socializing, but we have managed to sneak in a couple of nice conversations, and you were perceptive that Roxroy's closeness with the Redwallers in particular makes him easier for me to relate to than most of the other foxes here. But Mykola shares many of the same qualities as well. In fact, he almost doesn't strike me as a warriorbeast at all, even though he was with Lord Urthblood through many of the Northland campaigns, and at the battle of Salamandastron as well."

"Oh yes," Trelayne said with a subdued chuckle, "Mikky."

"Mykola's something of a ... special case," said Mona. "I've always thought of us foxes as more sensitive than other species, but Mikky has always possessed an empathy for the ostracized and disenfranchized far beyond anything I've ever seen in any other creature - woodlanders included. He was always quick to give our Northland vermin recruits the benefit of the doubt, and his patience and guidance of them surely helped some settle into Lord Urthblood's service more easily than they otherwise would have. Even as he fought alongside Machus to help tame the Northlands and establish Lord Urthblood's dominion there, taking life when our enemies forced him to it, he constantly and selflessly gave of himself to coach our rough, raw recruits, always seeking to bring out their best qualities, instill in them a sense of decorum and belonging, and aiding their transition to professional, honorable fighting beasts. He took a special interest in problem cases, troubled creatures who displayed antisocial tendencies or had serious challenges fitting in, making it almost a personal crusade to spare as many of these borderline beasts from the executioner's blade as he could. I can't even begin to imagine all the ferrets, weasels, stoats, and foxes and martens too - and, yes, rats as well - who were positively influenced by him over the seasons. He's not had much occasion or opportunity to engage in these practices since relocating to Foxguard, although at his core he remains the same goodhearted fox he's always been. I'm hardly surprised you favor his company as well."

"Mykola's a special beast," Roxroy offered. "One of the original Twenty who served with Machus, and yet with the compassion of a peaceable confidant. He actually would have made a good Redwaller."

Trelayne smiled at this. "I'm sure he would be most gratified to hear you say such a thing."

Kyslith stroked his whiskers. "It's funny, because I surely must have known him in the North - or at least met him a few times, or seen him about. But I hadn't been Master Trelayne's apprentice for very long before Machus and his brigade went south to Mossflower, and I never mingled much with the fighting beasts anyway, so I honestly don't remember him. But I'm glad he survived Salamandastron, and is here now for me to get to know."

"How has he taken the news of this operation against the rats?" Trelayne asked Mona and Roxroy.

"About as you'd expect," Mona replied with a sigh, as the junior swordfox nodded along somberly. "Many of the soldiers he strove to help in the Northlands were rats, and he was especially close to one who was slain at Salamandastron. He is clearly not happy with this campaign, and has voiced his feelings to Tolar. I don't believe he would go so far as to actively oppose the operation - he is, after all, still a loyal fighting beast of Lord Urthblood's - but I hope Foxguard is never called upon to play an active role in the campaign, because if we're pushed into more than just a support capacity, I'm not sure Mykola could bring himself to follow those orders."

"Well, he seems like quite a decent beast to me," said Kyslith, "and I hope he doesn't follow any orders he finds immoral or indefensible. Perhaps every military garrison and group needs a voice of conscience like that, to remind everybeast else that not all orders are good orders, and to always examine what they are told to do with a critical eye and questioning mind."

Roxroy levelled his own critical gaze at the fox apprentice. "This is Foxguard. We don't get to pick and choose which orders to follow."

"Oh, well, uh, I didn't mean it like _that_. But, it's just ... well, how do all of _you_ feel about this campaign against the rats?"

Mona answered first. "It is what it is. This policy was decided upon and enacted as part of great events which unfolded far from us. If it is necessary to keep the peace ... " She shrugged noncommittally.

"I never got to know any of the rats in Lord Urthblood's service very well, before I was sent down to Mossflower to begin my cadet training here," Roxroy said. "I can't honestly say I've ever had a rat friend. And, as Mona states, if this is what is necessary to preserve the Accord and keep war from breaking out again, then who are we to speak against it? I think my feelings on the matter are the same as Sword Tolar's seem to be: Whether or not it is necessary, it's not the kind of service we swordfoxes were trained for, or the kind of endeavor Foxguard was established for. Our purpose is to battle the enemies of peace and stand as a sentinel to protect the security of Mossflower, not to roust simple woodland beasts out of their homes and send them off to Tratton. It's rather ... beneath us. And if we can stay out of it as much as we can, all the better."

Trelayne weighed in then. "I've no love for rats of any stripe, and I honestly don't care what happens to any of them. Let them all go live under Tratton in a realm of their own, apart from the rest of us, just as Lord Urthblood has proclaimed. What I do care about is whether this campaign causes undue strains or stresses among creatures who ought to be friends and allies, as seems to have happened with this whole Redwall affair. That, it strikes me, is what we must avoid at all costs. I only hope we can."

"Me too," agreed Kyslith.

"Of course," added Mona.

"Let us hope," concluded Roxroy. The junior swordfox glanced skyward at the sudden appearance of a gliding shape above the treetops. "Ah, here comes Captain Klystra now. Let us see what news he bears, and whether our hopes have been borne out!"

00000000000

It felt to the Redwallers as if a suffocating weight had been lifted from the Abbey. Klystra's announcement that Urthblood would seek no demands from them or censure them in any way for their decision to take in the rats, and that the Badger Lord had ordered the Gawtrybe to disengage and pull back to Foxguard, elicited a collective sigh of relief that once again all had worked out, just as it always seemed to do. From the rats themselves, whose very life and liberty stood imperiled by recent events, to the Abbey defenders now spared any possible confrontation with Urthblood's fighters, to the ordinary Abbeyfolk who shied away from violence and dreaded the idea of a battle outside their walls spilling into their cherished haven, hardly a Redwaller could be found who didn't feel that they had just narrowly dodged a catastrophic clash which might have jeopardized everything they held dear.

The only exception may have been the former slaves lead by Lekkas, whose relief at the avoidance of conflict was matched by their displeasure that the rats would be staying. Even if the Redwallers would now be free once more to forage from the near woods to forestall any food shortage at the Abbey, the mere presence of the crude rodents still raised a whole host of other issues.

"We still must decide what is to be done now, Abbot," Lekkas insisted over supper in Great Hall that evening, bending Geoff's ear at the main table as Friar Hugh's staff laid out generous celebratory portions of watershrimp and cress cheesebread and warm acorn oak farls. "What are we to do about all the rats?"

"As distasteful and distressing as you might find it, Lekkas, we cannot put them out. We may have sidestepped any immediate crisis over their presence here, but Klystra and Custis made it abundantly clear that Lord Urthblood fully intends to pursue this Purge of his throughout Mossflower, regardless of what we do within our own walls. And that score or so of Gawtrybe the Lieutenant left behind to monitor the approaches to our gates drives home the point that not only will no more rats be permitted entry to Redwall, but that any of those currently inside the Abbey who dare to venture beyond our perimeter will be subject to this policy as well, tied up and taken into custody and marched off to who knows where. Harth and Latura's company, and Captain Truax's family as well, have invoked the sanctuary of Redwall, and that means we cannot surrender them. Not under these conditions."

"Yes, but ... what are we to _do_ with them?"

"Do with them? No more or less than we already have. The rats shall have the grounds and orchard, and your former slaves shall have Cavern Hole, until we can get Freetown built. That way, neither of you will have any cause to antagonize the other."

Lekkas set a grim jaw. "So we're to become prisoners in our own home? Unable to venture out of doors on glorious spring days, for fear of running into the beasts of our nightmares?"

"These rats are hardly that, as you might discover yourself if you made any effort at all to become acquainted with them. Woodland rats cowering behind out walls for fear of losing their freedom, or worse, are quite a different kettle of fish from the cruel, slave-keeping sea tyrants from whom you were liberated. However, if you'd rather switch places with them - give Cavern Hole over to the rats while you camp out on the grounds ... "

Lekkas threw up his paws as if the Abbot was being impossible and turned back to his dinner.

A few seats down, Alexander's second-in-command Elmwood sought to commiserate with the Forest Patrol chief. "Still don't think that was right of her, Alex sir, taking off to Foxguard like that with her fellow Gawtrybe, without even dashing inside for a quick farewell to you or explanation to any of us about what she had in mind. Hadta hear it from that feathered battler instead, even as those Northlanders were showing us their bushes in retreat. I'd say she's got some explaining to do when she gets back - if you don't mind my sayin', sir."

"Why should I mind? Everybeast else is saying it. Or at least thinking it. And Mina really doesn't do the explaining thing very well. She hasn't even been back inside since Geoff found out she was the one who sent our Sparra students to Foxguard - although I suspect that if and when he does take her to task for that, she'll seek to turn the tables and question his right to question her on such matters. She's very good at being imperious - guess it come naturally to royalty."

"Either that, or else she's spent too much time rubbing shoulders with Urthblood."

"There is more than a little of that badger in her, I'm forced to admit. I'm starting to think Mina and Urthblood are two of a kind when it comes to writing their own rules."

"Sir ... are things gonna be all right? Between the two of you, I mean?"

Alex heaved a deep, resigned sigh. "I don't know, Elm. I always thought there was nothing that could come between us, or shake our devotion to each other. Who could have foreseen anything like this? Now, I just don't know."

"Pah! You deserve better'n this, sir. I always thought that highfalutin' missus was too haughty for her own good. Now she's showing her true colors - and while they might be red, they're not the same shade as Redwall's."

Alex gave his lieutenant a sardonic smile. "I seem to remember you falling over your own tail to woo and impress Mina yourself when she first came to Redwall."

"Well, yeah - only me 'n' every other free male in the Forest Patrol. But let's face it, a beast of her high station would never have settled for any of us grunts, or even a second-in-line like me. Naw, she knew what she wanted as soon as she saw it, so it was almost fated that she'd end up with you."

"Fated, hm? You think she came to Redwall with a mind to snare the seniormost squirrel here?"

"I ... never said that, sir. Although, now that you mention it ... "

"Yes, it would certainly fall in with Urthblood's tendency to plan for contingencies far in advance, wouldn't it? A foothold inside Redwall, a voice at our councils, and a place in the heart of one of our chief defenders ... "

"Fur, sir, now you're starting to sound like one of the Long Patrol!"

Alex gazed across to the side table where a group of the recently-awakened fighting hares sat enjoying their own supper. "Maybe they've had it right all along, Elm. Maybe they have."

At the Long Patrol table, Sergeant Traughber had invited Tibball and the former slave hare Charsley to join them. Here, a moist, rich carrot cake had been added to the menu - Friar Hugh often tried to include a carrot recipe whenever he could for the Abbey's long-eared, long-legged defenders - and rabbit and hares alike tucked into that delicacy with aplomb.

"So, enjoyin' your time at our fair Abbey, Tibbs ol' chum?" the sergeant prompted.

"Oh, vastly and grandly, sir!" Tibball enthused through a mouthful of the sweet treat. "Just getting to visit Redwall itself would be a dream come true for most any creature living on the east side of the Moss. But for a rabbit like me to find all you fine hares waiting for me as well, that's just all the more staggering. I'd never heard of the Long Patrol before my brief time at Foxguard, and scarcely would have imagined that such magnificent, impressive, outstanding, audacious, wonderful, amazing - "

"Don't forget perilous!" Corporal Twisher cheerfully cut in.

"Yes," Tibball quickly added, "and perilous defenderbeasts could exist anywhere in all the lands! I know I'm just a humble homebody of a bunny compared to the likes of you, but still your gallant selves offer me a height for which to strive, a goal to aspire to, an example to seek to emulate, a star to hang my heart upon ... "

Pumphrey elbowed his pal Buckalew in the ribs. "Get a load of this little windbag! You'd think Browder's been giving him chunnerin' lessons, wot!"

"Well, I _had_ heard of the Long Patrol," said Charsley, "although I'd like as not have ranked my chances of ever meeting any of you lot as every bit as remote as Tibball's here. My mum 'n' pater raised me up on bedtime stories of your heroic feats an' derring-do, an' I always dreamed of journeyin' to Salamandastron someday to maybe try out an' see if I could make th' bally cut an' join your ranks. Then I was snatched up by those vile seavermin in my teen seasons, an' assumed that dream had died forever. I was more'n a tad disappointed, 'pon bein' released an' deposited at the badger mountain, t' find you'd all pulled up your flippin' stakes an' scuttled your scuts off to Redwall, but once t'was made clear to us that settlin' at this Abbey was an option for us, I knew there was nowhere else I could possibly go. So, here I am!" Charsley lifted his mug of raspberry cordial to his fellow hares. "And, if these legendary chaps 'n' chappesses can overlook this old fool's starry-eyed adoration of 'em, I'd just as soon dwell in their company for the rest of my bloomin' seasons, however many they may be!"

"Don't think that'll be a problem, chum," Traughber told him. "In fact, while it may be tellin' tales outta school a bit, now feels like as good a time as any t' let slip that the Colonel's plannin' to name you an honorary hare of the Patrols, with token reserve duties an' all that bally ballyhoo. If you're willin' to take 'em on, that is."

The slave hare's eye went wide. "Me? An honorary member of th' bally bloomin' blinkin' bashin' smashin' Long Patrol?! Where do I sign up!"

Traughber glanced at the main table where Clewiston dined with the other Abbey leaders. "Let's wait t' get final clearance from the Colonel, an' maybe we'll make it all official, with a tidy little ceremony an' all that, wot?"

Tibball cleared his throat. "Hrmph. Uh, any chance I might become an honorary Long Patrol too?"

Buckalew chortled. "First we'd hafta make you an honorary hare, wouldn't we?"

"More like a half-hare, Lew," Pumphrey sniggered.

"Hey, watch that talk, Pums!" Buckalew shot back. "You know how the Guosim thingummies bristle at bein' called halfmice. Don't want to go puttin' this bunny in a lappin' lather, do we?"

Tibball glowered at these jabs at his lack of full hare-ness, or at least he glowered as much as he could glower at any of his adored Long Patrol. "Please," he implored, "I've already had enough this season made of the fact that I'm not a hare. No more, if you'd be so kind."

"Oh?" Traughber cocked an ear. "An' when was that?"

Tibball related how he'd come to be at Foxguard in the first place, as a result of Mona's desire for a hare to study. "I might not have been what she wanted," the rabbit concluded, "but that didn't stop her poking and prodding me in all the most awkward and sensitive places. At least she didn't eat me, although there were times during her examination when I think I might have preferred that!"

Some of the Long Patrol traded knowing glances of consternation during Tibball's account; this was nothing new to them. "So, she's still at it, eh?" Traughber wryly remarked.

"Yes, I gathered from what she told me that you lot were less than forthcoming in agreeing to her requests," Tibball said.

"Flippin' well right we are!" burst out Pumphrey. "Hardly about to let that creepy vixen witch of Urthblood's have her way with any of us. Have you seen wot she does to some beasts? Skeletons hangin' on bloomin' display, other parts 'n' pieces stockpiled like pie fixin's in a pantry ... "

"Yes, I've ... seen it."

"So've a few Redwallers," said Traughber, "an' secondpaw reports're all we need t' jolly well hear. No hare of the Patrols is gonna give itself over to that practitioner of such unsavory arts." He glanced at Charsley. "Course, we'd not bind you to such prohibition, chap. You're free to go submit yourself to her macabre whims anytime you like!"

"Surely you jest! An' if not, then make me an honorary Long Patrol right this bally moment, so that prohibition _does_ apply to me too, 'cos I've seen enuff eye-avertin', stomach-turnin', soul-searin' sights during my slavedom to last me a hundred sodden seasons!"

"Hey, Sarge!" Buckalew called out, "y' reckon ol' Charsley's honorary induction will be call for another Salamandastron Dance?"

"Yeah," seconded Pumphrey, "Colonel said he was gonna make that soiree a regular shindig for purposes of workin' out, but we stopped it after just that one time."

"A few distractions've cropped up since then, as y' might've noticed, lads. An' with how bloomin' long it took us to recover from all our aches, pains 'n' strains from the last Dance, I'd say we've needed this break 'tween go-rounds. 'Sides which, we're so crowded nowadays, we'd not really have room for another anytime soon. Guess it's back to extended patrol runs outside the Abbey to keep us in fightin' trim, at least until Freetown's built."

"An' we rid ourselves of these reekin' rats," Pumphrey put in.

"That might not be fer awhile," Traughber reminded his juniors. "Long as old Bloodface has got that edict against rats in place, gotta figure our jolly Abbot's got no choice but to let those rotters stay, much as they're spoilin' the bally scenery."

"Oh well," Charsley said with a resigned shrug. "Long as they stay outside apart from us decent folk, guess we'll just hafta grin an' bear it, wot? Shame about th' Dance, tho'. I'd heard a little about the last one, an' it sounded like a prime whirl of a stompfest!"

Meanwhile, away at another side table, Cyrus sat with Cyril and Smallert, ruminating on the whereabouts of everybeast's favorite mixed-up former Abbess.

"I can't fathom it," said Cyrus, "Where could Vanessa possibly be hiding herself away between her infrequent appearances these days? We've looked just about every place she's likely to go, and we know she's not been sneaking out past the guards at the wallgates."

The one-eared weasel nodded. "Aye, ever since those rats showed up, Nessa's made 'erself scarcer'n a snowball in midsummer! But this Abbey's got so many hidey-holes fer anybeast who really puts its mind to not bein' found, it's small wonder she's been able t' disappear like she's been. I've dwelt at Redwall goin' on seven seasons now, an' seems like I'm still findin' small side chambers an' passages I never knew about b'fore, either down in th' cellars or up in the attics. An' she's a lot craftier at sniffin' out such places than I am."

"As long as she's safe and not in any danger, I'd just as soon she stay wherever she is," Cyril grumbled. "She's such a pest and a nuisance!"

"You're only saying that because she's sweet on you," Cyrus teased, unable to resist an opportunity to poke fun at his older sibling.

"She's got a head full of bumblebees!"

"It's full o' sumthin', awright," Smallert agreed, "altho', with all th' trouble she's been raisin' of late, I'd say Cyr's at last half-right in hopin' she keeps her head low like she's been doin'."

"Brother Winokur's still convinced Vanessa's got some kind of special link with that prophetic ratmaid," said Cyrus. "If you look back and think back over a lot of what she did and said over the past few days, it certainly seems like she knew these rats were coming, and knew some other things about them too. Maybe Martin's involved some way, helping them communicate with each other. Like a conduit between them, or something like that."

Cyril remained dubious about such speculation. "But, rats? Couldn't Martin have chosen somebeasts more ... reputable to have involved themselves in all this?"

"Martin works in mysterious ways, or so I've always heard Brother Winokur and Abbot Geoff say. What's got my whiskers twitching is the talk I've heard that Martin and Urthblood are somehow clashing with each other over all of this."

"Now that's just silly," Cyril opined. "Urthblood's alive, and all the way out at Salamandastron, while Martin's been dead for scores of generations, if not hundreds. How could any living beast interact with our founding Warrior? One's flesh and blood and bound to this world, and the other dwells in the realm of spirits."

"I'd not dismiss it outta paw, Master Cyril," Smallert advised. "Urthblood ain't no ordin'ry creature, an' if anybeast could reach out inta th' ghost realm, I reckon he'd be th' one. What worries me is, if any o' this's true, it means Urthblood might be an enemy of Redwall in some way, an' you don't wanna be on that badger's bad side. That's why I'm hopin' it ain't true. I've seen what 'ee c'n do, what 'ee's capable of doin' to his enemies on th' field o' battle. We can't be enemies with 'im. We just can't."

"Well, Winokur and I have been able to keep such talk from the young ones so far, but the way tongues are wagging these days around here, we might not be able to shelter them from it much longer. Innocent beasts of tender seasons ought not be burdened with such troubling reports that might weigh on the minds and darken the dreams of even stout adult defenders."

"Are you still gonna be teaching the classes now that Wink's back at Redwall?" Cyril asked his brother.

"Guess I'm back to assisting. He shows no desire to return to the quarry to chronicle the work there; as he told me, he feels he's already fulfilled his purpose there, which was not to witness the reopening of the quarry at all, but to be there when the rats arrived so he could play the part of peacemaker and conduct them to Redwall."

Cyril glanced around Great Hall. "Where is Wink, anyway? I don't see him around anywhere."

"Oh, he's outside with the rats. Our resident 'Greenpup' can't seem to separate himself from that seer ratmaid, who's clinging to him as much as she can. I don't think he really minds, although he could just be putting on a brave face. Can't be easy, having some needy maid hanging on your arm at every turn."

Cyril rolled his eyes. "Don't I know it!"

In the distance, the door to Great Hall creaked open and then thudded closed again as Arlyn and Metellus filed in from the outdoors. The elder Abbot took his offered seat at the main table alongside Geoff as the young badger delivered their flea-fighting materials back up to the Infirmary. "So, how go your efforts?" the current Abbot asked of his retired counterpart.

"It might take another day or two to get them all treated," Arlyn replied, helping himself to a plate of apple pudding and mild white cheese. "Those are an awful lot of rats!"

"Yes, you do look tired. Perhaps tomorrow I'll assign a few of the brothers and sisters to assist you and Metellus. Have yourself a good, fortifying dinner now, and then get a good night's rest. Will you be returning to your gatehouse cottage to sleep?"

"Oh no, I told Latura's group they could have it tonight as well. The Infirmary beds are quite comfortable enough for me. Besides, after their first night in there, I suspect the whole interior of that cottage will have to be well-powdered down before any uninfested beast will be able to safely sleep in there again."

Geoff shook his head, tsking. "What is wrong with some creatures? They knew they were coming to Redwall; couldn't they at least have made an effort to clean themselves up a bit more and save us all this work? I mean, you'd think they'd want to make the best impression they could if they wanted to be let into the Abbey, and this is hardly the way to do that!"

"In all fairness, they didn't even know for sure until they arrived at our gates that they'd be let in at all. And on the march as they were, they might not have had much opportunity to stop and bathe."

"Oh, nonsense! They had the entire River Moss at their disposal, the very last day of their journey. They're just not the kind of creatures who care very much about such things. That much is quite clear - and I do hope it's not typical of what we can expect of them, although I'm not holding my breath that they'll transform into model Redwallers any season soon."

"We don't need them to be model Redwallers - just to observe our rules and cause us no undue trouble. Fleas are relatively easy to treat, so if that's the worst of the problems they present us with, I'll not complain overmuch. Also, another reason I agreed to let Latura's villagers take the gatehouse for another night is so Turma can have the bed. She'll be delivering soon, and she should have proper bedrest until she does. And she's not the only one; several other ratwives out there are in a family way, and beds really should be found for them if it can at all be managed."

"You have empty beds up in the Infirmary - pretty much the only ones left in Redwall."

"Yes, I know. And as much as I'd prefer to keep them free for any true emergencies, I'm leaning toward letting those expectant rat mothers-to-be have them. Of course, that presents the dilemma of allowing rats inside the main building where our liberated slave friends insist they not be allowed, and of having the Infirmary fully occupied by ratmums, which would put off any of the slaves who come by in need of treatment themselves. It is a vexing quandary."

"Yes, just one of many facing us these days. At least it seems Lord Urthblood is not going to press the matter of these rats with us any further, given that he's ordered most of the Gawtrybe back to Foxguard, when he could just as easily have ordered Tolar's foxes to join Lieutenant Custis here for an action against us. In these affairs, we must take whatever small blessings we can, although this wrinkle actually does present us with yet another quandary of a sort ... or at least a very perplexing question."

"Oh?"

"If Urthblood is even half so serious about this campaign against the rats as Custis seems to think he is, why was he so quick to relent and order his squirrels to fall back? You'd think that so many rats taking shelter within our walls would be something he'd not so easily be able to overlook. Just look at what Captain Truax told us has been going on in the Northlands. This is not something that badger is taking lightly. So why the sudden turnaround?"

"Perhaps he figures that any rat with us now is not one likely to factor into his Accord with Tratton. Perhaps he truly does respect and honor Redwall's sovereignty ... or maybe it's just not expedient for him to risk a confrontation with us over this." Arlyn shrugged. "Who can say what goes on in that badger's mind?"

"Yes," Geoff nodded. "Who indeed?"


	5. Chapter 55

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE**

"I'm going out."

Nobeast at Foxguard had paid much attention when, during the dinner hour, Mykola had periodically stepped aside from assisting with the meal preparations in the kitchens to assemble a provisions pack from the larders. Nor had his departure from the tower-base fortress after the evening meal attracted any undue notice, allowing him to cross the wide courtyard with his measured, uneven, stumping gait unchallenged, his laden haversack slung over one shoulder and bobbing against his back as he walked. Deep twilight drained the departed day of all color and most shape and clarity as well, imminent prelude to the falling curtain of total, star-bedecked blackness, and most of Foxguard's inhabitants had already turned in or were making ready to do so, in eager anticipation of a rejuvenating night's slumbers, their deserved reward for another hard day of drills, exercises and labors.

A pawful of foxes, mostly juniors and cadets, stood evening watch on the curving outer walltop, while a pair of weasels held their sentry post by the stronghold's single egress to the woodlands beyond. Normally they might have chafed and grumbled at being assigned such overnight duty, but knowing that this relatively easy detail would win them a reprieve from the much more draining project their fellow weasels had been force into lately, they'd not complained overmuch at their present assignment.

It was these two guards - Jatin and Biccum by name - who now faced Mykola sauntering up to them with all the authority of a senior fox of the brigade, stating his intent as a plain matter of fact. The weasels traded uncertain glances, and Jatin said, "Goin' out, sir? At this hour?"

"Captain Klystra brought news of the Gawtybe's return this very night. Somebeast ought to be out to greet them."

"Um, ye're goin' alone?" Biccum asked.

"Everybeast at Foxguard is being kept quite busy these days. Few can be spared for any such extraneous duties."

"But, it's almost full dark," Jatin pointed out, quite unnecessarily.

"The Gawtrybe travel according to their own schedule. Fortunately, we foxes possess the best night vision of any creature this side of an owl."

The weasel pair nodded sagely; both the Gawtrybe's willfulness in all matters as well as the keenness of vulpine night sight were widely known. "Sure ye'll be alright, sir? Mebbe we c'n spare a cadet or two off th' walltop t' go with ye?"

Mykola dismissed their concerns with the wave of a paw. "I served under Machus and Andrus before Tolar, and am a veteran of Salamandastron. I think I'll be able to look after myself."

"Uh, yessir!" Mykola strode between the two weasels, returning their sharp and formal salutes with a looser one of his own as he descended into the narrow stone tunnel under the perimeter wall, past the currently-unstaffed murder holes and back up the enclosed incline that led him out of Foxguard altogether. Once the smooth sandstone yielded to bare earth under his pawpads, Mykola turned and struck out for the nearer woodlands.

But he did not turn to his right and and make for the forest to the north through which the Gawtrybe were expected to come. Instead he turned to his left, to the south, away from where the Northland squirrels were likely to appear. Hugging the base of the curving wall, where he would not be easily spotted by any fox on the ramparts, Mykola followed the structure around to its southernmost point, then broke from its obscuring shelter, trusting the mantle of night to shield him from the watchful gazes of his compatriots.

However, the night's gloom was not yet deep enough to hide his retreating form from the sharp eyes of that evening's walltop lookouts, which happened to include Roxroy. The young swordfox straightened at the sudden, unexpected appearance of the withdrawing figure down below. "Hey, who's that?"

One of the cadets standing with Roxroy strained through the night's early shades. "Whoever it is has got a telling limp. Must be either Mykola or Dalkeith ... "

"Yes, our resident 'Mister Limpy's,' as the Redwall youngsters refer to them," Roxroy said with a smile, but he quickly turned serious again. "What would either of them be doing out alone at this hour?"

"Um ... ask him?"

"Oh. Good idea." Roxroy cupped his paws to his mouth, calling out, "Hullo, hullo, who goes there?"

The diminishing figure neither slackened its slightly-wobbling pace nor turned to look back, acknowledging the hail with only the casual wave of one upraised paw as if to say all was well and there was naught to worry about. And then, as the lookouts watched, the solitary walker merged into the darker black of the forest and vanished from even their penetrating gazes.

"If that wasn't the strangest ... " Roxroy shook his head in befuddlement. "Sword Tolar must have ordered him out for some reason, but then why didn't he tell us?" He turned to the others. "You two stay here, and keep your eyes open in case he comes back again. I'm going to go look into this ... "

Moments later Roxroy was down the wall stairs and jogging across the parade grounds towards Foxguard's entryway. Coming upon Jatin and Biccum, he was greeted with a twin salute and the query, "You goin' out too, sir?"

"Wasn't planning on it. Who was that who just went out?"

"Uh, Mykola, sir."

"That's what it looked like. Where's he going?"

"Out to greet the Gawtrybe, 'tis what 'ee said," replied Biccum.

"The Gawtrybe?"

"Aye, sir," Jatin affirmed. "We both 'eard 'im say so."

Roxroy found himself shaking his head in puzzlement a second time; not only was Mykola about the last fox anybeast would expect to go out to meet the antagonistic squirrels, but the logistics didn't fit either. "If he was going out to greet the Gawtrybe, why did he head south instead of north, where they'll be coming from?"

"Is that what 'ee did? We couldn't see from in here." Biccum scratched at his jaw, joining Roxroy in mystification. "Mebbe those treejumpers're takin' a different way back?"

"Nay, they'd have to cross where all the ferry rafts are. And besides, they were spotted nearing the Moss late this afternoon. They'll definitely be coming from the north. Did Mykola say Sword Tolar had ordered him out?"

"Aye, he ... um ... well, I don't ... not exactly. Uh, I dunno, sir. We though he did, but now that y' mention it ... "

Roxroy turned. "I'll go check with Tolar about this. It's probably nothing, but I just want to make sure."

00000000000

Tolar stepped into the barracks chamber where Mykola slept and kept his few personal belongings. Sappakit and Roxroy followed close behind their Sword, anxious to see for themselves what this might all portend. None failed to notice the conspicuous absence of the lame fox's sword and scabbard - which didn't really surprise them, for no fox of the brigade would contemplate venturing abroad in the lands, especially at night, without the blade they were conditioned to regard as practically a part of them.

Also missing was Mykola's healer's satchel - although, again, there was nothing overly strange about that in and of itself, since any fox would know to take it along for woodland forays as a matter of common sense.

Being one of the seniormost fighters at Foxguard, Mykola enjoyed the luxury of sharing his semi-private bedchamber with only one of his comrades. Now Haddican, recently turned in for the night, sat up on his mattress, pawing at his eyes and squinting at the sudden intrusion of lamplight into his spartan shared quarters.

"Did Mykola tell you he intended to go outside tonight?" Tolar asked his drowsy, blinking subordinate.

"Mikky? Outside?" Haddican scratched at his ear as he struggled to bring himself fully awake again. "I've not seen him since the evening meal, Sword." He glanced over toward the empty bunk of his chambermate. "He wasn't here when I went to bed, so I just assumed he was taking an evening stroll around the grounds to clear his head. He mentioned nothing to me of going outside."

Tolar stepped over to Mykola's bed, the covers crisply made and properly turned down, the squarely-plumped pillow perfectly centered at the head. Seeing naught lying up the bed itself, Tolar lifted the pillow and discovered what he'd half-expected to find. Plucking up the small folded-double parchment, he opened it and read the message within. The others drew close around him to view it for themselves, even the unclothed Haddican now risen from his interrupted slumbers. They glimpsed no more than an indistinct one-line note before Tolar snapped the parchment closed again and slipped it into his tunic.

"Uh, what did it say, sir?" Sappakit inquired.

Tolar was silent for a long time before replying. "It appears Mykola has resigned."

"He's ... deserted?" Haddican breathed. "Mikky's deserted?"

The Sword pierced Haddican with a pointed stare. "Careful what words you use in regard to an honored member of this brigade who's served Lord Urthblood nearly as long as you - or me, for that matter. And be especially mindful of your wording once the Gawtrybe return. They will be even hastier to jump to conclusions than you just were."

"Are we going after him, sir?" Sappakit asked, his tone suggesting that not doing so would be almost unthinkable.

"No, we're not. He's earned this, and I will not deny him."

"The Gawtrybe might beg to differ. In the midst of all that's going on now, they might not see it as merely a ... resignation."

"No swordfox of the brigade has ever resigned before," Haddican added.

"Well, now one has. And as Sword, it falls to me to accept his resignation - which I do. If Lieutenant Custis has a problem with this, he can take it up with me - and I will promptly and firmly remind him of his place here at Foxguard."

"I wasn't just thinking of going after Mikky for punitive reasons," Sappakit said. "If we don't go after him, the Gawtrybe still might. And it would be better for him to be here among his comrades than abroad in Mossflower on his own."

"I'm sure that occurred to him when he was deciding all of this. He's made his choice. We will not pursue him - neither for his benefit, or for ours."

Sappakit's posture loosened, his body falling into an at-ease stance. "As you say, My Sword."

Tolar turned to go, lamp in paw. "Get your rest, Haddican. Roxroy, return to your post - and keep this to yourself, for now. I do not wish to make an official announcement until the morning."

The junior swordfox saluted smartly. "Yes, My Sword!"

Sappakit, having not been directly dismissed, fell into step alongside his commander as Tolar stalked back up the curving corridor toward his own quarters. "Did you wish to discuss this further in private, sir?"

"Not particularly."

"What did he say in his note anyway? It seemed awfully brief."

"He said enough, Sapp. Just enough, and no more."

"Ah. Eyes-only, then?"

"He gave his reasons, and I accept them. I see nothing to be gained by sharing them, since you can probably deduce them well enough on your own."

Sappakit nodded. "Yes ... yes, I guess I probably can."

"Go turn in, Sapp. Or stand a watch, if you prefer. Nothing more is to be done about this now."

"I suspect it'll be the watch, sir. I don't think sleep will be coming easily to me this night. And I'll not be surprised if Haddican joins me. He and Mikky have been quartermates for three seasons, and if he really did have no idea Mykola was planning to leave, this must've thrown him for quite a loss."

"Yes, I imagine. See you in the morning, Sapp."

"Goodnight, sir."

A short time later, Tolar sat alone at the Redwall-made conference table in his office, somberly regarding Mykola's resignation note by candlelight. So few words, conveying so much.

_"Liam would not have accepted this, and neither can I."_

Liam. The rat sergeant who, before perishing at Salamandastron, had stood as one of the lame fox's closest confidants, and one of Mykola's most steadfast allies in trying to help the more troubled recruits find their place in Lord Urthblood's army. Mikky had taken Liam's death especially hard, and had never been quite the same after that rat's loss - not that anybeast who'd survived that terrible battle had emerged from it quite the same. But for Mykola, already something of a misfit himself between his limp and his compassionate empathy for the would-be outcasts whose cause he unflaggingly championed, the loss of the sympathetic and like-minded Liam represented a particularly crushing blow.

And now, even had Liam managed to survive Salamandastron, the rat sergeant would find his reward being led away in chains and subjected to the cruel whims of their tyrannical former enemy. Perhaps it was for the best that Liam had fallen honorably in battle rather than live to see such ignominy. Of course Liam could never have accepted this Purge of his kind - and, in retrospect, there was no way Mykola could have been expected to do likewise.

The door to the adjoining bedchamber creaked open, and the Sword glanced up to see Mona standing at the threshold in her nightgown. "Tolar, what is it?"

"Mykola has left us."

"Left us? You mean ... for good?"

Tolar gave an empty chuckle. "I am not sure how good it is, but I do not expect him to return."

She eyed the parchment clutched in his paws. "He left you a note?"

"He did. And it leaves very little doubt as to his intentions - at least for those of us who knew him. And knew Liam."

"Ah." Mona digested this in sudden enlightenment at the mention of the rat sergeant's name. "Mykola always was something of a ... special case among you swordfoxes. A lame fighter who could hold his own alongside the best of you in any battle, but who also tried to fit the whole world inside his heart, and give of himself as much as any Abbeybeast. I heard it said only just this afternoon that he'd have made a good Redwaller. In retrospect, it's hardly surprising that we've lost him over this."

"Exactly what I was just thinking."

"Do you suppose that's where he'll try to go? To Redwall?"

"Perhaps. If he does, he'd better take a different route than the Gawtrybe, because he'll not wish to run into them."

"Will they cause trouble over this, with us, when they get back?"

"They may try. How far they push it will depend entirely upon their mood over how things went for them at the Abbey. I suppose we'll find out when we find out. Until then ... " Tolar held Mykola's note edge-down over the flickering candle, the flame catching and spreading to consume the entire parchment. He cast it into a ceramic tray on the table before it could singe his pawtips, then sat stoic as the tiny conflagration flared and died, leaving only flutters of ash.

"Was that wise?" the vixen asked. "Lieutenant Custis might have wanted to see verification of Mykola's departure. Or aren't you planning to tell him?"

"He's welcome to count heads to figure out whether one of us is missing. I don't intend to bring the matter up."

"Custis is no idiot. If he were, Lord Urthblood would never have placed him in charge of this campaign. Things could get ... awkward when he returns."

"Yes, I know," Tolar said with a sigh, and added. "Mikky, my old companion, have you just solved a problem for us, or given us a whole raft of new ones?"

00000000000

Custis wanted to push on through the night to Foxguard after crossing the Moss, but Mina provided the overriding voice of reason.

"Lieutenant, your squirrels have had hardly any real rest since answering my summons. How many of you have gotten anything close to a full night's sleep in the past two days? Foxguard isn't going anywhere, and Tolar will still be there in the morning. If you truly suspect a confrontation with him may lie ahead, you'll want to face him with the freshest body and clearest mind you can muster. And that means not bursting into Foxguard in the predawn hours dead on your paws, when neither you nor Tolar will be in any shape for the conversation you may need to have."

"I don't know, Lady. We fighters are accustomed to odd hours and limited rest when the situation calls for such, and I for one would relish a crack at Tolar when his mind might not be at its sharpest. Might be the only time we'd be likely to get anything like the truth out of him."

"That's assuming he's been dishonest with you in the first place. I'm still willing to grant him the benefit of the doubt, at least until I've had the chance to question him directly myself. He may have a perfectly good explanation for all of this."

"Or, conversely, any delay on our part might provide him the time he needs to fabricate a perfectly good explanation."

"With suspicious thinking like that, Lieutenant, I'm almost ready to conclude you've become part fox yourself. I still think it would be better to stop here for the night, with the river at our backs and only three landward sides to guard against. Then we can depart at dawn and hit Foxguard around midmorning with our full measure of energy and wits about us."

In the end, Custis deferred to his High Lady, and an impromptu camp was set there on the east banks of the Moss, with only minimal watches posted and no fires lit. But the entire brigade was up and breaking their fast with the first faint traces of the sky's brightening, and ready to be on their way again long before sunrise. Custis gave a departing backward glance at the small fleet now beached on the quarry side of the river. "At least our Redwall friends can't complain that we're leaving them stranded at their work site without vessels."

"Unless somebeast else wants to cross going _to_ the quarry, or Foxguard. We didn't leave any rafts on the Abbey side of the Moss."

"Then they can bring along an otter or two to swim across and row one back. Come on, let's get going."

Sunrise saw them nearly across the riverside meadows to the forest edge again, and soon after that the Gawtrybe had taken to the treetops once more, speeding their way through the canopy toward Foxguard. Long before midmorning, the tree cover broke to reveal the sandstone fox fortress immediately ahead, and the squirrels abandoned their arboreal highway to descend into the clearing and march the rest of the short way to Foxguard's entrance.

The foxes had known roughly when to expect the Gawtrybe, having spotted them on their side of the river from the tower. And when the returning Northlanders spilled out of the trees into the clearing around the fortress, a full reception detail of the swordsbeasts assembled on the walltop directly above the portal tunnel to see the squirrels in, their drilling and exercises put on hold for the moment. Mina and Custis tried to read the vulpine faces as they drew up to the entryway, but found the mood hard to gauge.

"Well," Mina remarked to the lieutenant, "either they've turned out an honor guard to welcome us, or else they're presenting a show of force to let us know where things stand."

"Or both. I guess we go on in, and if we don't find the way barricaded, we assume they're willing to have us back."

The Gawtrybe brigade realigned itself into a narrow column two beasts wide as it filed down through the entry tunnel, with a grouping of lower-ranked squirrels at its head. Only after a score or so of their company were up onto the parade grounds without meeting any resistance did Mina and Custis enter, to find Tolar and several of the other senior swordfoxes standing there to greet them under the morning sun.

The fox chieftain was as surprised as his fellows to find Lady Mina among the returnees. "Lady, what are you doing here? We did not expect you."

"These are strange days indeed, Tolar, with all manner of unanticipated events transpiring - like a hundred and a half rats showing up at Redwall without warning to seek sanctuary there."

Tolar kept his professional composure. "Yes, Klystra informed us of all that unfolded there. I was gratified and relieved to hear that no lives were lost. It seems a larger crisis has been averted - " his gaze went to Custis, " - in spite of the best efforts of some here."

Mina held out a paw to head off the lieutenant's incipient outburst of outrage at the fox's accusation. "And yet questions still abound, both about what is to be done now, and how this state of affairs came to be in the first place. The Lieutenant and I would like to discuss this with you - in private, if you'd be so kind."

Tolar mulled this over, then nodded. "Of course. Come with me to my chambers, and we can talk there."

"And I'd like Mykola to join us too. Please have him summoned - I do not see him here."

Tolar stopped in mid-turn to look back at Mina in puzzlement. "Mykola? What for?"

"I'm just curious as to whether he might have any light to shed on this matter, from his perhaps unique perspective."

"Very well." Tolar leaned over to Sappakit and murmured something the squirrels couldn't hear, then resumed leading the way toward the tower. Mina and Custis stood their ground for a moment, confused.

"Hold on - aren't we going to await him here?" Mina asked with a hint of suspicion.

"Mykola is not immediately available. We may wait in my rooms, where you will be more comfortable."

"Not satisfactory. If he's sleeping, wake him. If he's eating, call him from his meal. And if he's on guard duty, call him down from wherever he is so that he can join us."

Tolar turned completely around and stepped back toward Mina. She'd fully taken charge here, Custis deferring to his tribe's High Lady in this. The Sword didn't wish to delve into the desertion of a senior member of his brigade any more than his would-be inquisitors desired to interrogate him right here in front of everybeast. They both had reason to want to take this behind closed doors, so Tolar decided to play a gambit to forestall further public display. Pointing up to the summit of the tower, he said, "Not all places within Foxguard are equally accessible, My Lady."

"He's ... up there? On lookout duty?"

Withholding both an affirmation and a denial, Tolar replied, "Let's just say it might be quite some time before he can join us. Sappakit will see to Mykola while we get settled inside. Now, did you wish to speak with me in private, or not? Either is fine with me."

It worked. After trading uncertain glances with Custis, Mina motioned for Tolar to proceed. "Lead the way, then."

As the three of them disappeared into the fortress proper, Roxroy stepped over to Sappakit. The junior swordfox had stood near enough to hear the exchange between Tolar and the Gawtrybe, and now worry knit his brow. "They want to speak with Mykola!" he hissed at the older fox in alarm. "What's Sword Tolar going to do?"

Sappakit showed the calm of the seasoned campaigner he was. "He's going to take care of it," he replied simply. "That's why he's Sword."


	6. Chapter 56

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX**

"Mykola won't be joining us," Tolar announced once he, Mina and Custis were all settled into their chairs around the Sword's conference table.

The two Gawtrybe were momentarily thrown by this seeming reversal on their host's part. "I must insist that he does. If you will not summon him down from the tower, the Lieutenant and I will go up and retrieve him ourselves."

"You would not find him there," Tolar said, keeping his tone genial. Reaching across to a pitcher and some cups at the table's center, he mildly inquired, "Would you like some water? You must both be parched after your trip through Mossflower. We get it right from the Moss here, as you know, and I find it particularly refreshing."

Mina ignored the offer. "You said he was on lookout duty up in the tower!"

"My apologies, Lady, but I never said any such thing. And for the purposes of the conversation I suspect we are about to have, I'm sure you will forgive me for any perceived misdirection on the issue, since we all want to keep these proceedings private."

This was hardly a remark to mollify the increasingly-exasperated squirrel queen. "I don't care where he is, I want him summoned now!"

Tolar poured himself a tumbler of river water, maintaining his calm. "Mykola no longer resides at Foxguard. He resigned his commission and left."

For the second time the Gawtrybe were rendered momentarily speechless. Even though they sat across the table facing him, Tolar could see their twin tails switching in agitation. "When?" Mina demanded.

"Last night."

"And you just let him leave?"

Tolar affected an air of mild umbrage. "Mykola served this brigade selflessly, and often above and beyond the call of duty, for over twenty seasons, in spite of his impediment. He'd earned the right to tender his resignation whenever he wished. Was I to forbid him?"

"Under the circumstances, yes," Custis shot back.

Tolar eyed the Lieutenant appraisingly. "And what circumstances are those, exactly?"

"Don't play games with us, Tolar," Mina warned. "You know what this is about. And now the one fox we most wanted to talk to conveniently disappears the evening before our return."

"Am I or any member of my brigade being accused of something?"

Mina realized the fox Sword meant to play coy until they spelled out their suspicions plainly before him. "Foxguard's creatures were the only beasts in Mossflower who knew of this campaign before the Lieutenant's arrival. Those rats knew to flee to the sanctuary of Redwall. How do you account for this?"

Tolar shrugged. "I cannot. So I ask again, am I being accused of something?"

"Stop being obtuse, Sword!" Custis spat. "You've made it crystal clear since my first day at Foxguard that you're against this campaign! You went out of your way to hide the presence of these rats from me at a time when they were clearly visible from the tower, and we could still have overtaken them before they reached Redwall! You've blocked and obstructed me at every turn! What were you trying to cover up?"

Tolar took a measured draught of water, his frosty stare fixed on Custis over the brim. Setting the tumbler back down, he said, "You forget your place here, _Lieutenant_. Not even Lady Mina herself would have dared to address Machus with the insolence you just showed me. I am Sword now, this is Foxguard, and I _will_ command the respect I am due. One more outburst like that, and I will have you forcibly removed from my sight."

Mina jumped in before Custis could rage on. "I knew Machus as a dear and valued comrade, Tolar. If you are going to invoke his name in this matter, you had best be certain you are worthy of it."

"I sit accused of dishonor in my own stronghold, Lady. How am I to respond? You think I tipped off those rats somehow? I tell you I did not. Is my word not enough for you? What more do you need?"

Mina smirked. "After that little display of - misdirection, did you call it? - outside just now, you'll forgive me if I don't take your words at face value, or perhaps read a little more deeply into them than I otherwise might. You insist you did not warn those rats of the coming campaign. Fair enough. But I believe Mykola did."

Tolar absorbed this. "Two questions, Lady - how would he have accomplished such a thing, and why?"

"You know perfectly well why, Tolar - stop playing the fool! From the time he first entered Lord Urthblood's service, that soft heart of a fox has bent over backwards to show favoritism to the beasts least deserving of it. His support for the irredeemable very nearly cost him his career over that Wolfrum incident at Redwall, and I very much doubt he's changed, even here at Foxguard. We both know how the announcement of this operation must have struck him, and that his empathy for the affected rats might have led him astray, even into dereliction of duty and perhaps straight into treasonous behavior, aiding and abetting the enemy!"

"Is that what those rats are now? The enemy? Nobeast has ever really spelled that out for me."

Mina pounded her fists on the table. "Enough! Klystra told us of the horde that's been building in the ridge valley to the northeast, how that horde contained many rats - the very rats we now believe to be inside Redwall. And Klystra told us that you were aware of that horde's presence due to his own reports. And if you were aware of it, then Mykola knew of it too. What are we to think, Tolar? What else _can_ we think?"

"You can respectfully think that I am telling you the truth when I say that there's no way Mykola or any other creature at Foxguard could possibly have done what you suggest. We only learned of the rat campaign earlier this season when Klystra delivered the news to us. Ask him yourself when next you see him, and he will verify this. For those rats to have reached the quarry when they did, they would have had to leave their valley base camp well before anybeast here could have delivered any such message to them. For that reason alone, I think I can safely say we stand cleared of any such accusation. Furthermore, I will attest, as will everybeast else at Foxguard, that no veteran, junior or cadet of the brigade, nor any weasel in our service here, was absent from this fortress for the period of days necessary to journey to the horde's valley, warn the rats of the campaign - as if they would have listened to any of us anyway - and then return to Foxguard. This is hardly a case where an independent-minded solitary beast could simply step out for part of the night and return before dawn with their subterfuge completed. I never ordered nor sanctioned any such contact with a potentially hostile horde, and nobeast else here could have done what you suggest without being conspicuously missed. Now, does that address your concerns sufficiently?"

"Well, they certainly listened to somebeast," Mina insisted. "A hundred and a half rats - especially a hundred and a half hordesrats - do not simply up and leave their horde on a whim, or without some compelling reason. And they do not head to Redwall seeking sanctuary unless they've been convinced that's the only place they'll be safe. Could it be that Mykola engaged somebeast else from outside Foxguard to travel to the valley and warn the rats?"

Tolar shook his head. "Mykola spent very little time outside our walls, and never forged any close relationships with woodlanders as far as I know. By the fur, we've had a hard enough time just getting the locals to trust any of us, or to get over their suspicions of foxes and weasels, in spite of our best overtures. Stop and think about what you're saying. You're suggesting that any of us here could have persuaded a reluctant woodland beast to journey several days away and venture right into the heart of a vermin horde to warn their rats to defect from their army under possible pain of death and strike out for Redwall, where creatures of their ilk are less than welcome? Do you realize how preposterous that sounds? What makes you think such a messenger would be believed? For that matter, what makes you think that messenger would even return from such a mission alive?"

Custis crossed his arms over his chest, jaw set hard. "I don't believe you."

Tolar's mouth was set in a grim, hard line to match the squirrel's. "What, exactly, don't you believe, Lieutenant?"

"Any of this - and your latest bosh least of all. We know you had one rabbit working for you, and those are speedy beasts indeed. If one, why not more?"

Tolar almost had to stifle an outright laugh. "Tibball? You speak of Tibball? Oh, yes, he worked out so well that when we sent him out to meet up with you between here and the quarry, he disappeared and never came back. The only reason he ended up with us at all was because Mona had put out word that she sought a hare to study for her researches, and an overly-enterprising mouse presented her with Tibball instead. That rabbit spent exactly one day and one night at Foxguard, as our reluctant guest, so you could hardly say he was in our employ. The one task we asked of him as a favor went woefully unfulfilled, and I harbor serious doubts we'll ever see his scut within our walls again."

Mina curled her lip. "Must not have been overjoyed with how he was treated during his stay here. But you still should not have accepted Mykola's resignation, or allowed him to leave, before we'd had a chance to question him ourselves."

"It never occurred to me you would want to, or that you would return with the attitude that anyfox here had anything to answer for. It was a Foxguard matter, and I handled it as I saw fit."

"Where did he go?" Custis asked, nostrils flared in challenge. "When he left here, where was he going?"

"He did not say, Lieutenant, and I did not ask."

"That sounds of a piece with everything I've heard here so far. Who else witnessed this so-called resignation? Was there a ceremony? Did he submit a letter?"

Tolar's gaze unwittingly dropped to the ceramic tray upon which the water pitcher sat, the previous night's residue of parchment ash cleaned away without a trace. "The affair was conducted more privately than that. As Mykola wished it."

Custis leaned back, slapping the arms of his chair. "That's just fine. All neat and tidy, and all we've got to go on is your word."

"My word should be enough for you ... Lieutenant."

"Well, it's not. Mykola needs to come back and answer for himself. And I won't be satisfied until he does. If he only left last night, he can't have gone far, not on that leg of his. He'll be sticking to the woods for cover, I imagine, and we Gawtrybe can cover the forestlands like nobeast without wings. We'll fan out through the nearer woods in a standard search formation. He shouldn't be too hard to turn up."

"You won't find him," Tolar begged to differ.

Custis's eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you seem to forget who you're dealing with. Mykola's a veteran swordfox, one of the original Twenty who served with Machus. Don't be fooled by his limp; he knows enough of strategies and tactics to write a book about them, and he's extremely well-versed in the arts of scouting - and concealment. You'll not find him if he doesn't want to be found - and he doesn't."

"You sound pretty sure of that, Sword."

"I know my foxes."

"And I know my Gawtrybe. We're good. We're very, very good. And I wager your errant fox had never had to elude trackers like us before. We'll find him. And then we'll see what there is to see."

"I still say you won't find him. Foxes have much better night vision than squirrels. He'll know to go to ground during the day, when he'll be so skillfully hidden that you might well pass over right him without realizing it, and move only at night, when his sharp ears and eyes will see and hear you coming long before you can spot him yourselves. You're welcome to try, but I fear you'll only be wasting your time - yours, and your entire brigade's."

Custis levelled a long, penetrating gaze at Tolar, as if analyzing the fox's words and manner to divine some unspoken meaning from them. At last he said, "He's not even out there, is he? You're practically challenging us, building him up as such an untraceable phantom, so that we'll be goaded into expending all our forces on a wild goose chase looking for a fox who isn't there to be found."

"I don't know what you're getting at, Lieutenant. Are you suggesting Mykola's still here at Foxguard? That would be a neat trick, with tenscore Gawtrybe on these premises. Do you really believe I'd be able to hide him from so many prying eyes, anywhere within these walls?"

"I did not say he was still here either. Perhaps you discovered that he did somehow manage to violate your code of conduct, and that was more than you could bear. Perhaps he embarrassed you in a way that could not be tolerated. Perhaps his 'resignation' was not his own idea, and his punishment was far more severe than mere banishment or exile."

Tolar's eyes widened; even the unflappable Sword was shocked at the implications in this latest accusation. "I did _not_ kill Mykola, or have him slain!"

"Even if his crimes warranted such a penalty?"

"He committed no such crimes of which I am aware. You are welcome to search Foxguard from top to bottom if you like, but you will find neither Mykola nor his corpse."

"An interesting choice of words, Sword. Especially since I happen to know you currently have at your disposal a means of making inconvenient creatures disappear that nobeast else does." Custis pushed back his chair and stood, turning toward the chamber door. "If you'll excuse me, Lady, I have a hunch that needs following ... and maybe I'll be able to get some straight answers from just about the only beast at Foxguard whose word I can still trust."

Mina remained seated as her fellow Gawtrybe stormed out. Waiting until they were alone, she said, "You should have been more cooperative, Tolar."

"And you should have been more respectful, Lady." Tolar waved a disgusted paw after Custis. "And as for him, I don't even know where to begin."

"He is only trying to carry out his charged duty, and things have gone spectacularly badly for him so far. He's looking for explanations - and frankly, so am I."

"He's looking for somebeast to blame, and I will have none of it. To be frank myself, Lady, I do not care what suspicions you and the Lieutenant harbor against me, because I know them to be groundless, and that I have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Custis claims I have been obstructing him at every turn. I seem to remember greeting him warmly upon his arrival, helping him with their carts and their loads, freely sharing my not inexhaustible supplies of food and drink with his squirrels, exchanging status reports with him and conferring on the logistics of the campaign at paw. I have not held back one whit from providing him with the requisite material and logistical support he requires, and I will continue to provide just that, because those are Lord Urthblood's orders. I have no intention of opposing this operation, or undermining it in any way. And on that, you have my word."

"Custis said you've expressed less than favorable views on this campaign ... "

"Only insofar as it's not work for swordfoxes, and I hope we are not ordered into a more active role. But to serve it in a support capacity, I have no opinion one way or the other. Am I no longer entitled to voice my own views, in my own stronghold?"

"Then what of Mykola? What of the rats at Redwall?"

"Mykola had his own opinions, and they were not compatible with this mission. I need hardly delve into that with you; you know how he felt about downtrodden and disadvantaged vermin. Could news of this operation have affected him any other way? Of course I let him go. Unwilling paws are worse than no paws at all, so this was the best thing for him, and for us. As for the rats who've escaped to Redwall, I honestly do not believe Mykola had anything to do with that, nor do I believe he could have, even had he been so inclined. It just wouldn't have been possible, for the reasons I have already laid out."

"Then how do you account for their flight to the Abbey? _Somebeast_ tipped them off."

"Klystra mentioned that Captain Truax recently arrived at Redwall, having successfully eluded capture in the Northlands. Could he have warned them?"

"They did not arrive at the Abbey together, and did not seem to know of each other."

"Then perhaps somebeast else from the North also managed to escape and make it to Mossflower? It might not necessarily even have been a rat - just somebeast who disagreed with the operation, and wanted to spread the word ... "

"Like Mykola?"

"Yes ... but who, unlike him, actually had opportunity to do so. How did the rats themselves explain their presence?"

Mina snorted. "They claim to have a seer among them who foresaw all of this."

"Could that be true?"

"No. It could not. I have spoken with this so-called prophet of theirs, and she is a total and complete dolt who doesn't know her head from a wallstone. She couldn't have delivered anybeast out of an old sack. But she's managed to convince her fellow rats, and a few of the Redwallers as well."

Tolar raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh really? Well, that's their business now. I'm just glad that fool didn't go and start a war with Redwall."

"That 'fool' is a trusted officer of Lord Urthblood's, and somebeast with whom you will have to cooperate, whether you like it or not. And your manner in all of this could have been far more civil, Tolar. I expect better from Foxguard's Sword than what I've seen here today."

"You speak of my manner, Lady? Then put aside for a moment any lingering suspicions of my words and deeds and intent you might still possess, and assume for the sake of argument that everything I've told you is true - that I acquitted myself with the honor and dedication expected of my station, that I have only assisted and not hindered the Lieutenant in any way, and that I in no way aided or instigated those rats' flight to Redwall. To whit, that I have done none of the things I stand accused of. And then that insolent twit storms in here casting aspersions and allegations and baseless blame upon me for schemes in which I had no part, if they even existed at all, and he tops it off by all but interrogating me like a criminal or his own prisoner, right here in my own stronghold! How else should I react? A fox with less forebearance might have thrown him right out of Foxguard on his tail! And you think _my_ attitude was out of place?"

Mina digested this. "I will have to think on this, Tolar."

He leaned across the table toward her, although two tail-lengths still separated them. "Think on this while you're at it, Lady: When that impetuous firebrand raced off in answer to your summons, I feared he might jeopardize relations between us and Redwall. After his actions here just now, I worry that he might jeopardize relations between the Gawtrybe and Foxguard."

"Tolar! Such talk smacks of sedition!"

"If there is a rift, Lady, I will not have it laid at my door. I follow orders ... but I take my orders from one beast and one beast only, and that badger is not here now. Somebeast needs to remind the Lieutenant of this fact - for his own good."

Again, Mina mulled over the fox Sword's words, nodding at last. "I will speak with him, and make him see that cooperation is paramount. We cannot be divided at a time like this."

"Thank you, Lady." Tolar rose and moved around to Mina's place, chivalrously pulling her chair out for her. "Now, let's go see where the good Lieutenant has rushed off to, and see if we can keep him from causing any more trouble!"

00000000000

Trelayne was not accustomed to interruptions during his work, and on the whole did not appreciate such intrusions. Thus it was that he, along with his assistant Kyslith, glanced up in mild irritation when Custis appeared unbidden in their workshop doorway.

"Lieutenant, can we help you with something? We're rather involved with what we're doing here ... "

"Then set aside your labors for a few moments," the Gawtrybe commander snapped off, striding into the spacious yet cluttered chamber. "This is important."

Marten and fox glassmaker exchanged questioning glances, then put down the vessels they'd been toiling with and stripped off their heavy work gloves. "You've caught us at a rather delicate phase of the tempering process, Lieutenant, but we can spare you a few moments, if this really is so urgent."

"It is." Custis elicited a nervous, subdued gasp from the two craftsbeasts as he marched right up to the edge of the oversized vitriol tub. The vat stood open and exposed, its protective steel lid winched up at a yawning angle on its heavy support chains. The tub itself was full to within a paw's breadth of the rim with the corrosive fluid, looking as peaceful and harmless as mere water but containing such astoundingly lethal destructive capabilities.

"Lieutenant," Trelayne cautioned, "would you mind not standing so close to the open vessel, if you please? That's vitriol newly distilled, in its most concentrated form."

"I'm well aware of its hazards. I do know of Tolomeo, after all."

"Ah, er yes ... "

"Master Trelayne, you and I have been acquaintances for several seasons now, first at Salamandastron and then during our march to Mossflower from the coast. In that time I have come to regard you as an upstanding and honorable beast, principled and moral as any woodlander or goodbeast, purely dedicated to your craft and equally devoted to Lord Urthblood and his cause, and above any petty obfuscations or personal bickering. I need to consult with you now, and although I know it would never occur to you to withhold it from me, I must nevertheless ask for your full truthfulness and cooperation in this matter."

"Why, of course, Lieutenant. In what regard?"

Custis reached out over the slightly-rippling surface of the vitriol and pointed straight down. "Has anybeast been put in this?"

Trelayne reared back on his heels as if slapped, while Kyslith stood aghast with jaw dropped, both creatures blanching visibly. "What?! No! Do not even suggest such a thing! That would be terrible beyond comprehension!"

"Where were you and your assistant last night? Is this vat ever left unguarded, so that others might have access to it without your knowledge?"

"Kyslith and I retired to our chamber last night after our work was done, but ... we left the vat tightly sealed, and found it thus this morning!"

"Sealed, but not locked? So somebeast could very easily have crept down here in the dead of night while you slept, and disposed of a body in this without you ever knowing?"

"No! They could not have!"

"Why not?"

"I would be able to tell!"

"How?"

"There would be telltale signs, indications. For one thing, the vitriol would present as somewhat clouded, and not clear."

Custis regarded the open vat in the cellar lamplight. "Too bad this isn't made out of glass, or crystal, with transparent sides. It's hard to tell whether the vitriol is perfectly clear or not, just looking at it from the top."

"There would be other things to look for as well. Contrary to what most beasts seem to think, the vitriol does not consume living or inert material completely. Maybe closely enough to leave a casual observer with that impression, but rest assured that there is always some small portion or remnant the fluid cannot break down entirely. Any clandestine attempt to dispose of something as large as a grown creature in this would have left a slight scum on the surface, or a film around the edges, and perhaps a few larger bits as well floating in the vitriol or resting on the bottom. I see no traces of that."

"But, can you be absolutely sure?" Custis asked, still not thoroughly convinced.

"There is one other way to tell as well," Trelayne went on. "Dissolving such a mass in this quantity of vitriol would leave it markedly diluted, and not nearly as potent. It would still retain much of its corrosive property, and be very dangerous to living flesh, but as far as using it for my sculpting purposes it would practically be spoiled after the introduction of so much foreign matter to contaminate it. And that would be very easy to test for."

"Do it."

Trelayne turned to the smaller, paw-held vessel he'd been holding upon the Lieutenant's arrival. Holding it up to the lamplight so that the illumination could shine through the glass jar, he proclaimed, "See? It's quite clear."

Custis curled his lip downward. "It looks cloudy to me."

"Hm? Oh, that. Yes, it does, doesn't it, but that's only because the inner surface is coated with beeswax, to prevent the vitriol from attacking the glass." The marten set his hazardous burden back down on the work counter again. "Kyslith and I were just about to temper this small batch for use in sculpting, so we'll go ahead and do that, if you'd care to wait. If it turns out all right, we'll know the main batch hasn't been tampered with."

"Temper?"

"Yes, Dilute it for crafting use."

"I thought you just said diluting it would spoil it."

Trelayne shook his head. "No, no, no - it _has_ to be diluted before it can be safely used. But it must be diluted in just the right way, using the proper materials and processes - not just by chucking any old thing into it."

"Or any old beast."

The master glassmaker turned a penetrating gaze on the squirrel. "Just what, precisely, do you suspect of having happened here, Lieutenant?"

"No need to go into that until your tests tell me whether I'm barking up the wrong tree entirely."

"Very well." Trelayne and Kyslith pulled their protective gloves back on and returned to work. They barely had to exchange a word between them, so often had they performed this procedure over the seasons. Custis tried to follow their labors with his eyes, but so little of it made sense to him, it all just seemed like so much random pouring and mixing and measuring, accompanied by the occasional fizz and puff of vapors. At last Trelayne turned to the Gawtrybe officer, holding forth a shapeless piece of fuming glass clutched in a pair of tongs. "There, you see? The tempered vitriol scored this piece of test glass just as it was supposed to. That means the master batch from which we withdrew it is pristine, and has not been adulterated in any way."

"So you are positive beyond any reasonable doubt that nobeast has been dissolved in this?"

"Yes, I am absolutely ... " Trelayne broke off from what he was saying, staring past Custis to the doorway. "Mona, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

The healer vixen stood at the threshold, staring in at the work area with wide eyes and pricked ears. "What ... are you talking about?"

"Nothing you need worry yourself over, my dear. The Lieutenant here harbored some rather macabre suspicions that he still hasn't fully divulged, but fortunately I was able to prove him wrong." The marten set down the glass and tongs. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I ... was just on my way to my surgery. I'll be off now." Mona and her peculiar attitude withdrew from the doorway, only to be replaced moments later by Sergeant Flesch.

"Ah, Lieutenant, there you are! I've been looking for you. The rest of the brigade is getting a little antsy, and wondering what you should have us do. Are we to leave with Captain Klystra at once to establish Gawdrey? If so, the carts need to be prepared ... "

"Have half the squad get to that," Custis ordered; now that Chetwynd had been left behind at Redwall to guard the approaches to the Abbey, Flesch stood as the Lieutenant's second-in-command on site. "The other half I want organized into a search team."

"A search team, sir?"

"Yes, it seems Foxguard has suffered a defection - or so Tolar would have us believe."

"A defection, sir? So you'll need us to fan out through the nearer woods to try to track him down?"

"No, Sergeant. I want you and your squirrels to be on the lookout, both within these premises and without, for any signs of a fresh grave."


	7. Chapter 57

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN**

"So, Lieutenant, do you think Mykola is alive, or dead?'

"I honestly do not know, Lady."

Mina and Custis leaned against the balcony wall of Foxguard's observation tower, gazing out over the evening forest. Both squirrels needed the support to rest upon, having taken the spiral staircase up to the lofty summit; the Lieutenant, wishing to demonstrate his independence from Tolar, had insisted upon making the climb under his own power rather than relying on the swordfoxes or their weasel laborers. Two of those weasels shared lookout duty this night, and were all but dumbfounded to see the Gawtrybe emerge unheralded from the stairwell; not only had they not been informed to expect any visitors, but _nobeast_ climbed those thousand-odd steps to get to the observation deck!

Two other members of Custis's brigade had accompanied Mina and their commander up to the tower top, but did not join them out on the open deck.

"I still don't know how much I can trust Tolar," Custis went on. "I just have the feeling that if I take everything he says at face value, I'll be making a grave mistake."

"Perhaps you are the one making the grave mistake, Lieutenant - at least as far as graves are concerned, if you'll pardon the pun. You and your squirrels examined every square pace of these grounds, and uncovered no sign of any fresh burial plot where Mykola could have been interred. Nor did you find any evidence of such outside the walls, in the surrounding clearing or in the nearer woods where a body could have reasonably been carried. What you _did_ find was the very clear tracks of a lame fox going several hundred paces into the south woods before they doubled back and abruptly disappeared. I'd surmise Tolar was correct in his assessment of Mykola's pursuit-eluding abilities."

"Unless Tolar sent out his other lame fox to make those pawprints and throw us off track. He's got another one in his squad, you know."

Mina shook her head. "Mykola and Dalkeith have their limps in different legs, and Dalkeith's is the result of a battle wound, not something he was born with like Mykola's malady is. I am sure those tracks we saw were Mykola's ... and the witnesses we interviewed all corroborated that he left Foxguard in that direction, alone, just as all the signs indicate."

"And that's another thing," Custis growled, unwilling to concede the point. "Just how trustworthy were those so-called witnesses anyway? You notice Tolar insisted upon being present when we questioned them ... "

"Which made sense, considering that those witnesses consisted of one junior swordfox, two cadets and two weasels - all creatures either youthful and inexperienced enough or lowly enough to be easily intimidated by us."

"Maybe a little intimidation is exactly what the situation called for, since Tolar himself has shown he's not about to be intimidated, and he could very easily have briefed and coached them all on what to say."

"Even with Tolar there, I think those weasels and cadets were flustered enough by our questioning that they would have betrayed any inconsistencies in a fabricated cover story. And as for Roxroy, I've gotten to know him fairly well in his dealings with Redwall, and I know him to be an earnest and forthright beast. Tolar might be able to keep something from us or concoct and elaborate ruse, but I do not deem that Roxroy could. But if Tolar truly were trying to deceive us, why would he not have arranged for his highest-ranking foxes to have directly backed up his version of events? As it was, they only thing they could confirm was the discovery of Mykola's apparent resignation under his pillow ... "

"A letter which Tolar admitted under duress to having burned. The one document, in the missing beast's own paw, which might have exonerated Tolar, and he goes and burns it! Why would he do such a thing, if he's not trying to hide something?"

"He stated pretty adamantly that it was because he never expected he'd have to justify or explain himself, as well as to respect Mykola's privacy."

"Pah! It only makes Mykola look more guilty, even if his Sword is guilty of nothing more than covering up his crimes for him. But even if all we heard today was true, the manner in which he was seen to leave and in which his letter was discovered after the fact would clearly suggest that Mykola didn't resign at all, as Tolar maintains. If that's not a desertion, I don't know what is."

"I would largely agree with you on that score, Lieutenant. So, are you going to go after him?"

"That depends on what Lord Urthblood says ... "

As if on cue, a light flared from somewhere up above them, an undulating blaze in the pervading twilight casting their aerial terrace into an island of brightness. Mina glanced up in surprise as the loud crackling of combusting drywood reached her ears. "Lieutenant, what are you doing?"

"Sending a message to His Lordship. It's too late in the day to dispatch Klystra, and I don't want to wait. My squirrels and I know how to employ the signal mirror; we've done it enough times at Salamandastron. And I'm keeping this one short and simple."

"Does Tolar know you planned to do this?"

"That would rather defeat the purpose, Lady, wouldn't it?"

The two weasels assigned high watch, realizing themselves what was going on when they saw the signal fire lit, raced over to the two Gawtrybe. "Sir," one stammered, "are you sendin' a message to Saman'dastron?"

"I am."

"Did Sword Tolar authorize it?"

"I authorized it." When the weasel pair looked to each other as if wordlessly debating whether they ought to put a stop to this, Custis added, "Consider carefully your next move. If you interfere in any way with the message I am sending, or with the reply I expect to receive this evening, I will make sure Lord Urthblood knows both your names in my next dispatch to him."

The weasel lookouts withdrew into the domed enclosure of the observation deck without further objection; clearly this matter was beyond them, and best left for the Gawtrybe and swordfox commanders to work out between themselves.

Down at ground level, the lighting of the signal fire did not go unnoticed. Walltop sentries spotted it first, being farther from the base of the tower and not having to look straight up to see the apex. And since none had been notified of any communication with Salamandastron scheduled for that evening, runners quickly came down from the lower ramparts to find and alert Tolar. In very short order the fox Sword, his interrupted dinner now forgotten, stood out on the grounds under the silver twilit sky, craning his neck to confirm that yes, the signal mirror was indeed in use. Even as he watched, he observed the intermittent flashes of the enormous reflective instrument being swung back and forth, transmitting its unknown message to the mountain fortress by the sea.

"Fur 'n' thunder!" Tolar swore to himself. "What does that pompous, usurping treejumper think he's doing now?"

Several of the nearby Gawtrybe - all of whom were camped out in the courtyard for the night - looked askance at the swordfox chieftain over this less-than-complimentary imprecation of their own commander, but showed enough discretion to hold their tongues.

"Shall we go up and stop him, sir?" Sappakit asked.

"If it's a short message - and I suspect it will be - we'd never reach him in time. He might even be finished before we can even get the elevator in motion."

"That's assuming it's running at all," added Haddican, "and Custis hasn't ordered our weasels to stand down from the winch until he's finished with the mirror."

Tolar eyed his fellow veteran fox. "Not even the Lieutenant would overstep his authority that egregiously."

"Are you sure about that, sir?" Sappakit said. "This is, after all, the very same squirrel who all but accused you of murder, or treason, or both, and interrogated your seniormost foxes to try to prove it."

"Hmm. Point taken, Sapp. But we'd still never get up there in time, even if the winching crew is still on duty."

"Maybe not to stop the message being sent, sir. But there's still the matter of the reply, which may take some time in coming. And we'll not be able to see for ourselves what it is if we're down here."

"Another valid point, Sapp. But I'd like to try something else first. Where's Captain Klystra? Will somebeast go fetch him please?"

The falcon officer was quickly called down from his open guest roost atop the fortress's third level roof, flapping earthward to join the assembled Foxguarders and encamped Gawtrybe upon the courtyard lawns.

"Hope you ask no flying," Klystra told the Sword. "Almost dark soon, do not fly as night."

"Don't worry, Captain, it won't be a flight of distance - just altitude." Tolar pointed straight up at the tower peak. "Somebeast is using the signal mirror without my authorization - although it's fairly safe to assume who it must be. Would you please fly up there and see what the Lieutenant is up to?"

Without a word, Klystra clacked his beak and launched his formidable form straight off from the lawns, soaring into the fading sky. Going into a spiralling climb that looped around the tower in wide swoops during his powerful ascent, he attained the balcony wall and alighted upon it with the practiced ease and utter fearlessness of a winged creature, perched half over the dizzying precipice and barely visible to those looking on from below.

Whatever falcon and squirrel had to say to each other didn't take long, and Klystra was soon gliding back down again, following the same oblique corkscrew pattern as his ascent, and finally thumping onto the ground before the awaiting Tolar once more. "Well?" the Sword prompted.

"Routine status report, nothing more," the bird replied.

"Oh? And just what status is it that he's reporting?"

"Did not say. Said only Gawtrybe message meant for Lord Urthblood, and Gawtrybe will take care of it."

"Is that so? Well, this is _my_ fortress, and I'll not have anybeast beaming communiques from my tower without even knowing what they are." Tolar motioned to Sappakit, Haddican and a couple of his other senior foxes. "Come on, let's go see what this is all about. Looks like we will be taking the elevator this evening after all."

Their small party marched across the courtyard and into the fortress to the central tower shaft ... and shortly thereafter, the elevator summons bell up in the observation deck began to ring with impatient urgency.

Away at Redwall, Latura and Winokur stood atop the east wall, leaning against the battlements there just as Mina and Custis had leaned upon the high balcony at Foxguard. Otter Recorder and rat refugee enjoyed the fresh, clear spring evening air, the atmospheric clarity making the brilliant flashes from the towertop all the more prominent.

"Th' bad red's talkin' to each other agin."

"Yes, we can often see when Foxguard and Salamandastron are messaging each other, especially at night. You must admit, they've got a lot to talk about these days, with everything that's going on - and you can't expect Klystra to go flying back and forth between here and the coast everytime Tolar and Urthblood have a question for each other, or need some small point of clarification, now can you? But don't you worry - no matter what they're saying to each other, you're safe inside Redwall now. And the only way the Gawtrybe will threaten you anymore is if they declare war on Redwall itself!"

Latura shook her head. "Nay, t'ain't about us this time. About us rats, I mean. They're talkin' 'bout sumpthin' else. Red 'gainst red."

"Red against red?" Winokur suddenly grew worried. "Could Urthblood actually be contemplating ... ?" He didn't wish to finish such a disconcerting thought, but then something else occurred to him. "Or is this about your vision? By the tapestry? The red badger against the Warrior of the red Abbey?"

"Naw, t'ain't about us at all, this night," Latura assured him. "It's bad red turnin' on itself. Can't tell what it's all about, or where it leads. But it's happ'nin'."

Winokur mulled this over. "Well, according to you, the 'bad red' is the Gawtrybe, and it's Urthblood, and it's maybe Foxguard too, at least from where you rats stand. That's an awful lot of bad red. Any idea which is turning against which?"

"Hard t' say. All mixed up, an' more t' come. Bad feelin's, all confused ... " She wrapped her paw round Winokur's waist, and this time the otter could stand unflinching, assured that he wouldn't catch any more fleas again, thanks to Arlyn's treatments. "Keep us safe, Greenpup. Keep my Da safe, an' the others too. Can't be taken away now, not after comin' all this way."

Winokur draped a comforting webbed paw around her shoulders. "Nobeast here is going to allow any rat to be taken from within these walls against their will, as long as we have anything to say about it. And we've got plenty of otters and hares, and squirrels of our own too, to back that up."

Latura rested her head against his breast. "I know you'll do a good job o' it. Greenpup always does."

"I'd like to think I do." Winokur stared at the distant tower summit, meaningful flashes sparkling off of it. "I wonder it they're answering a message of Urthblood's, or sending one of their own? We can only ever guess at that whenever we see that device in use, since we're nowhere near high enough to see Salamandastron from here." After a long pause he added, "But if you really do foresee some manner of strife at Foxguard, maybe the Abbot had better tell our Sparra to make daily flights there too, as well as those to the quarry."

Back at the fox fortress, it took longer than anticipated for Tolar to reach the observation deck. With the weasels pressed into special service these days, the labor pool was stretched thinner than usual, and one area suffering cutbacks was the safety bar crews for the elevator ... many of whom were now, of necessity, junior and cadet foxes rather than the regular weasels. With only half the normal number of beasts staffing the tower stations, crews found themselves doing double duty, having to clear and replace the catcher timbers for the ascending elevator as it passed, then racing up the twisting staircase to the next station ahead of the rising platform so that they could perform the same operation all over again. And the winch weasels at the top of the tower, aware of this shortage of muscle power, factored it into their own efforts, turning their winch handles at a more measured rate accordingly. As a result, Tolar's party found themselves reaching the towertop dome in nearly twice the time the vertical journey typically took.

The foxes waited for the weasels to secure the elevator, then stepped off onto the stone floor and strode out onto the open balcony to confront Custis and Mina. "Lieutenant," Tolar bit off, "what is the meaning of this? I did not authorize you to use our signal mirror."

"_Your_ mirror?" Custis shot back with his usual air of self-assurance. "I would remind you that that mirror apparatus is the property of Lord Urthblood, and not your own personal plaything. And as one of his commanding officers, I am perfectly entitled to make use of it, without having to seek your permission. Indeed, as the senior Gawtrybe personally appointed by Lord Urthblood to oversee this operation, I can claim special privilege to employ any and all resources at my disposal for whatever I need."

"Ah. And just what message are you sending now, the need for which could not wait?"

"Now? I am sending no message now. The one I _was_ sending was finished before you even rang the bell to be brought up here. And as to its content, I was merely appraising Lord Urthblood of latest developments, and seeking his counsel on the matter."

"And why do I have the feeling that your 'routine status report' may have been far from impartial in its wording, and cast certain parties in an unnecessarily negative light? If Foxguard's signal mirror is to be used in the manner you suggest, Lieutenant, the commander of Foxguard is entitled to know what messages are being sent from his own fortress."

"Let's wait and see what Lord Urthblood has to say about that, shall we?" Custis brusquely pushed past Tolar and the other foxes into the domed shelter. "I'm going up to wait for his reply right now. Perhaps it shall arrive before the night grows too old."

"We'll go with you," Tolar said stiffly as he started to follow.

Custis glanced back over his shoulder. "All of you? I don't think so. There's only room for half a dozen up there, at most, and my squirrels and I will be taking up half that space. Lady Mina, do you care to join us as well?"

Seeing what the Lieutenant was trying to do - crowd out the foxes with Gawtrybe to leave room for few if any of the swordsbeasts up on the signal mirror platform - Mina opted to decline, not caring to heighten tensions any more than they already were. "No thank you, I'll stay down here - this is enough fresh air for me!"

"Suit yourself." Custis proceeded on to the curved staircase up to the roof, Tolar and the others at his heels. Before they'd even reached the bottom step, however, the squirrel Vanacour came pounding down the stairs, parchment flapping in his paw. Startled, Custis inquired, "Van, what is it?"

"Reply, sir." Vanocour held up the parchment, pointing at it as he stepped down onto the floor.

"Already? Lord Urthblood himself must have been up on the plateau of Salamandastron when we sent our message, for such a fast turnaround."

"That would be like him, wouldn't it?" Vanocour said with a lopsided smile. "Nobeast's ever accused that badger of not knowing where to be when he needs to be. Um, did you want me to read it, sir, or did you want to see it yourself?"

Custis eyed Tolar. "Is there anything best not shared aloud?"

"Um ... I don't think so, sir."

"Then read it, and we can all hear His Lordship's will together."

"Yes, sir!" Vanocour held out the message before him. "Build Gawdrey. Commence campaign at once. That is all."

A silence settled over the group. "That's ... it?" Custis prompted. "There's no more?"

"You were expecting something more?" Tolar teased, sensing that the situation had suddenly turned, and not in the Lieutenant's favor. "Sounds like exactly what he already had Klystra tell us yesterday. Just what did _your_ message to Salamandastron say?"

Custis scowled. "It's not important now ... apparently."

"Uh, there's one other thing, sir."

"Yes, Van?"

"The salutation - it addressed you as 'Captain Custis.'"

Custis blinked. "As ... Captain?"

Mina smiled. "Lord Urthblood doesn't make careless mistakes about such things. Does he, Sword?"

Tolar grimaced. "Indeed he doesn't." Swallowing his gorge, he stepped forward and extended a grudging paw to the Gawtrybe commander. "It appears congratulations are in order for your promotion ... Captain."

Custis hesitated, then took the proffered paw firmly in his own. "You do know what this means, Sword? Captain is the highest rank Lord Urthblood awards in any of his general brigades. You will no longer be able to issue me orders, inside Foxguard or out."

Tolar gave a mirthless smirk. "As if that changes anything, aside from perhaps making it more official. I look forward to working with you, Captain."

The squirrel's eyes narrowed. "Do you?"

Tolar released his rival's paw. "Respect goes both ways. I'll not disrespect you, and will expect the same courtesy in return. It's clear Lord Urthblood expects operations to proceed apace, and that means the cooperation between us that I've been willing to give ever since you first arrived. Anything less, I suspect, would displease our master."

"Uh huh. Van, please maintain your position up above, in case any further messages come through. I'm going down to rejoin the others. We have carts to get packed if we want to be ready to leave for the Gawdrey site first thing in the morning, and I need to get the assignments worked out for which Gawtrybe will be leaving with Captain Klystra and which will remain here to help commence the campaign." Custis eyed the elevator platform and its two attendant weasels, then started for the long staircase leading down to the main fortress, a thousand steps below. "Are you coming, Lady, or did you wish to take the lift?"

"The climb up was rather tiring. I think I'll take the easy way down, if you please."

"Of course. I'll see you down below."

The others watched as Custis's tufted ears and trailing bush disappeared down the twisting stairwell. Tolar turned to Mina. "I have a feeling something rather dire may have just been narrowly averted here. Just what was the nature of his dispatch to Lord Urthblood?"

Mina shook her head. "I was honestly as surprised as you must have been. I had no idea he intended to use the signal mirror until the fire was lit. And I gathered from our conversation prior to that that he expected a far different response from Lord Urthblood than the one he got."

"That much was obvious. And you have no inkling as to the content of his message?"

"I might have made some guesses or assumptions, but it appears now I might have been wrong, in light of the reply. Taking that rather curt communique into account, I'd surmise that Lord Urthblood didn't consider our new captain's inquiry to be particularly urgent."

"Yes," Tolar agreed, "it would seem not. Let's hope that puts an end to this rather unpleasant chapter once and for all."

00000000000

The Point had stopped.

And it had stopped at the most inconvenient place of all.

Urthblood stood on the plateau of Salamandastron at the crater rim staring east, past the low mountain range to the unseen heart of Mossflower. For nearly two days, ever since Klytra's report of rats at Redwall, the taciturn Badger Lord had held to this vigil, forsaking food, drink or sleep as he maintained his statuesque pose of watchfulness. The other beasts of the mountain could sense that some crucial juncture lay at paw, and the fortress buzzed with speculation as to what this news might portend. Most had known or suspected that the Abbey might not view their master's latest endeavor favorably, but now that nearly two hundred rats had been granted sanctuary at Redwall, what would happen now? Would actual strife break out between the two powers?

The latest message flashed from Foxguard only served to cast the situation in an even more dire light. Captain Matowick, summoned to the mountaintop when the signalling first began, now stood alongside his Lord, the scrawled deciphering of the incoming communique clutched absently in his paw. He didn't need to look at the parchment to recall the simple dispatch, its few words emblazoned upon his memory.

_ Mykola deserted, Tolar uncooperative, perhaps untrustworthy -  
>Advise<em>

_Lt Custis_

In light of this startling and perplexing report, Matowick and his fellow captains Abellon, Mattoon and Tillamook were even more surprised when Urthblood issued an immediate and absolute reply doing little if anything to address the Lieutenant's - now Captain's - concerns.

"Sir," Matowick prompted a second time under the darkening coastal skies, "I really do feel Custis was counting on a response more ... well, instructive."

"I reminded him what he was sent to Mossflower to do, and gave him a promotion to make that reminder stick. I foresee no undue trouble coming from Foxguard, so I suspect it is more a matter of Tolar and Custis clashing on details of command procedure. I trust them to work out these differences on their own, as experienced professional officers. Any tensions between them should ease once Gawdrey is well along, and once Custis is fully engaged in his campaign."

"And what of Mykola?" asked Abellon. "Desertion's a serious transgression ... "

"There are far larger issues at play than a single fox ... if he even did desert. He may simply be following in the pawsteps of Captain Saybrook, leaving my service over a difference of opinion. As long as he does nothing to actively oppose or interfere with my efforts, I see no need to personally involve myself. Tolar is Sword of Foxguard; he will know what to do about this situation."

"An' what of all them rats in Redwall?" Tillamook inquired. "What's to be done about them?"

Urthblood turned to address everybeast around him. "Leave us. Captain Matowick and I must speak privately."

This abrupt dismissal caught the Gawtrybe commander off guard as much as anybeast, and Matowick stood by in curiosity as his fellow captains and the signal mirror operators filed down the central plateau stairs and disappeared into the natural citadel. With everybeast else gone, the ever-present ringing in his ears reasserted itself, the faint distant inner shriek vying with the whistle of the shore breezes at this altitude and the crackle of the dying signal fire a dozen paces away. Looking to his master, Matowick asked, "What is it, Lord?"

"You must go to Redwall. Tomorrow, at first light."

"Redwall?" The squirrel's heart fell, for reasons fully occupying his mind these days. "My Lord, if you need to send an envoy over this rat impasse ... "

"That can be your cover story, if you like, but that is not why I am sending you. There is a creature at the Abbey - a creature you must find and bring before me."

"A creature?"

"Yes. A rat."

"A rat?" Matowick wasn't sure whether to laugh or despair at this statement. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard - there are certainly enough there these days to choose from!"

"I am not concerned with every rat at Redwall. And I am not concerned with just any rat there - only one in particular."

Matowick felt a little like he'd fallen into a dream that was making less sense with each passing moment. "And which one is that, Lord?"

"The one I am sending you to find."

"Um, I was hoping for something a bit more specific, Lord. What is this rat's name?"

Urthblood gave his Gawtrybe captain a hard, unnerving stare. "I do not know."

"Well, is it male or female?"

"I do not know."

"Is it young, or old?" Matowick probed, growing flustered. "Infirm, or healthy? A family beast, or a fighter? A leader, or a follower? How am I to know this 'one particular' rat out of the scores at Redwall?"

"You will know it, Captain, by its gift."

"Gift? And what gift is that?"

"The rat I seek possesses the same powers of prophecy that I do."

Matowick stood silent for long moments, eyes wide and jaw slack as old reports and rumors and idle soldier talk tumbled into a semblance of sense in his mind. "Tardo ... the shrews ... this is the rat you had them searching for in Mossflower, last spring and summer?"

"It is."

"You're ... certain?"

"Certain beyond doubt."

Matowick mulled this over some more. "I ... I can appreciate the importance of this, My Lord. But Perri is very nearly due ... "

"Then she does not have to accompany you."

The squirrel stood speechless for several heartbeats, unable for the life of him to determine whether the hulking badger had just cracked a joke. "Sir, it's many days to Redwall, and many days back, even when no difficulties are encountered. I'd really counted on being by Perri's side when our son or daughter comes."

"I am sorry, Captain, but this cannot wait. You must go there at once."

"Why me? Why not somebeast else? Custis is right there in Mossflower already. Why can't he and his squirrels handle this? They could get it done in half the time."

"Custis will be too busy with his assignment - and none of his Gawtrybe would be welcome at the Abbey in any case."

"And I will? I'm Gawtrybe too. Perhaps Abellon and some of his mice, or Tillamook and his hedgehogs ... "

Urthblood stared hard at him, gaze unwavering. "I see you and your squirrels doing this."

"Ah," Matowick fell silent once more, and this time no further objections came to him. Not now that the prophetic badger had invoked the one argument beyond arguing.

"You say you appreciate the importance of this, Captain, but do you really? Envision this mountain without a badger on its throne. Picture my army falling apart, captains defecting or turning against each other, all the vermin falling back to their savage old ways and the Northlands returning to what they were before I tamed them. Imaging Tratton storming these coastlands with nobeast to stop him, and claiming Salamandastron as his own, and then turning his ambitions of conquest in toward Mossflower itself. Contemplate all we have worked for, struggled and bled and died for, lying in ruin. Now, do you appreciate what is at stake?"

"You mean ... this rat ... ?"

"Has within its power, I believe, the potential to undo everything we have achieved, and cast the lands into total chaos."

"Is it ... the crisis you have foreseen? In your prophecy?"

"I cannot be sure. A key part of it, perhaps."

Matowick set his jaw. "Then this rat must be slain on sight."

"Perhaps it must be slain. But first it must be brought before me, so that I may determine for myself just what threat it may hold to the lands."

"I ... wish it were otherwise, Lord, and that I could stay here with Perri, as I'd intended and hoped. I know she will be as disappointed as I am. But now that you have explained the need for this ... I presume this is not to be mentioned to anybeast else?"

"There was reason I sent away my other captains. Obviously they will deduce on their own the importance I place on your mission, from the mere fact that I am even sending you at such a time. For now, let the reasons remain just between the two of us."

"I understand, Lord. I take it I am to assemble a team?"

"Yes. All Gawtrybe, no more than half a dozen - and make sure they are all squirrels you can trust. You may encounter resistance."

"From ... Redwall?"

"From any number of directions. If fate is as heavily bound up in this creature as I suspect, you may find difficulties placed in your path that you did not anticipate."

Matowick wasn't sure what that meant, so returned to the more obvious and mundane. "If this rat is under the protection of the Abbey, extracting it might prove tricky. And even if we can make a clean snatch and get clear of the vicinity with our target, this could seriously damage our relations with Redwall."

"I am aware of that, Captain, but this is more important than our relationship with Redwall. It is more important than all else, at the moment."

"I understand, but ... even if the extraction goes smoothly, this could spur the Redwallers to open opposition against us."

"It cannot be helped. If the choice is between possibly losing Redwall and possibly losing everything, the decision becomes easy. Relations can always be mended at a later juncture, but not if I am no longer in power to rein in the forces of havoc. Preserving all we have already wrought becomes paramount. It must not be jeopardized."

"Yes, My Lord."

"You and your team will travel to Redwall by the most direct route, over the mountain pass to the Western Plains. You will return the same way with your prisoner, if at all possible. Once you arrive at the Abbey, you will spend time among the Redwallers and take as long as you need to positively identify the one rat we seek. I suspect you will not need to search very hard, and Lady Mina will be able to assist you in this, but there must be no mistake. The correct rat must be brought here to Salamandastron, or else disaster may loom."

Matowick nodded, the whine in his ears now forgotten, forced from his awareness by the sudden intrusion of so many more important things. "I will go at once to pick my team and brief them, so that we will be prepared to leave come dawn. And then ... I must tell Perri. That won't be easy."

"Would you like me to be there? She may take the news better if she realizes these are my express wishes, and my direct orders."

"Oh, she'll know. We've served you long enough to understand the sacrifices sometimes required of us. If it's all the same, My Lord, I'd prefer to see to this privately."

"Of course. You are dismissed, Captain. I will see you in the morning."

After Matowick was gone, Urthblood strode across the plateau to the only other creatures still occupying the mountaintop: a number of his battlegulls, roosting at various points around the crater rim. Spying Captain Scarbatta among them, the badger went right to the gull commander.

"Captain, if I may impose upon you to fly down to the aerie and summon Captain Saugus? I have a special mission to assign him."


	8. Chapter 58

**CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT**

As much as she hated to admit it to herself, Ambassador Squillace had grown fond of seabird eggs as part of her breakfasts at Terramort. Whether scrambled, poached, over easy, or even occasionally presented sunnyside-up with a huge domed yellow-orange eye of yolk staring up at her, Tratton's palace chef's knew how to coax the most delectable tastes and textures from these shelled delicacies, and the crusty old hedgehog savored each one as much as the next.

On this morning, the royal court of the searats lavished upon their grudging guest a double helping of the avian treat, presenting her with both a sweet cakelike bread battered and fried in whipped albatross egg, along with krill omelets folded and grilled to perfection.

Unlike her counterpart Erzath at Salamandastron, Squillace was all but banned from the common eating areas where she was likely to mingle with talkative rats. Instead, Tratton had assigned her to a suite of her own on the palace floor beneath his, an airy and well-lit accommodation worthy of a senior captain of the fleet. By searat standards it must have been opulent, but it was no less a prison for all its luxurious amenities, with windows overlooking a sheer drop to the deadly wave-pounded rocks far below, and multiple guards posted outside her door day and night - and Squillace didn't need to dwell very deeply on just why they were there. Although, for all that those sentries were meant to restrict her, she also couldn't help taking some satisfaction from the knowledge that they might have been stationed outside her apartment as much for the protection of the other rats here as to limit her movements and prevent her from venturing about unauthorized. Also unlike Erzath, who could be so easily unnerved by his Badger Lord host, Squillace comported herself with a gruff invincibility, sparing not a word of ridicule, reprimand or scorn for anyrat who thought to cross her - and, wrapped in the protective mantle of diplomatic immunity, she pulled no punches - sometimes literally.

On her first day at Terramort, when one of Malvarkis's court officers decided the new Ambassador had not displayed the proper deference to the Searat King, he took it upon himself to lightly cane her into respectful subservience - whereupon she spun and leapt on him, driving him to the floor and, before anyrat could stop her, wresting the cane from his shocked grasp and doing something quite indecent to him with it, in full sight of the entire court. When other guards jumped on her in response, she put three of them in the infirmary with her bare paws before Tratton himself called an end to the altercation, Squillace herself emerging from the scuffle with only bruises and a few bent spikes to show for her warrior's efforts.

From that day forward the rats of Terramort referred to her as Ambassador Battleaxe - an appellation in which the bellicose Squillace positively revelled.

For her own part, Squillace didn't care one whit whether she dined alone or among multitudes - although her isolation did make it much harder to glean any news she might have gained from loose-lipped rats which might be of interest to Lord Urthblood. And her virtual house arrest rankled her only slightly, for as much as she would have liked to gather useful intelligence for her badger master, she was also pragmatic enough to accept the realities of her situation. At Terramort, Tratton had final say on all such matters, and the force of arms to enforce his will, so if he decreed she was to be confined to her posh prison most of the time, she would not fight it - or at least not too much.

That very Searat King announced his presence with a knock on her suite's door as she polished off the last of her omelet offering. Without any word of assent from her, the door opened just as it always did during the sea tyrant's unannounced visits and, as always, four of the elite palace guards preceded Tratton into the chamber, deploying themselves in a defensive posture to make sure the hedgehog wasn't in an assaultive state of mind. Seeing her seated and relatively docile by her standards, they parted to allow their ruler to approach the table, although Tratton made a point of halting several paces from the breakfasting woodlander, safely beyond easy striking distance.

"And how are we this fine morning, Ambassador?"

She screwed her face up at him. "Food's passable, as allers. Some bum coulda made a meal outta it. Nice t' know there's one thing you salty seathieves're halfway decent at."

"Oh, we're good at other things too - but you'll just have to take my word for it." Behind him, Tratton's retinue stood tensed, ready to club Squillace down at the first sign of any hostile move - not that they need have bothered. Tratton's paw rested assuredly near his sword hilt, and nobeast there doubted he could have the hedgehog disembowled in mid-charge should she try anything so suicidally foolish.

"So, guess this ain't th' day I get th' guided tour o' yer weapon shops?"

"No more than yesterday was, or tomorrow will be. Although I've come to realize that won't stop you asking."

"Hardly hospitable, eh, keepin' yer honored guest all bottled up like y' do."

"You are a guest of necessary protocol, not honor, and you will be allowed only where you must go to discharge your responsibilities as Ambassador - which, sadly for you, leaves out most of Terramort. You should feel privileged, even so, since you are the first woodlander of any species I've permitted to set foot on my island in many, many seasons."

"Hmm. Consid'rin' what I've seen of most of this place so far, it's no loss fer them, I'd say. So, Yer Majesty, what's on _your_ agenda fer today?"

"Oh, this, that and other things. You'll be informed of anything you need to know - and I should emphasize, that's what _I_ decide you need to know, not you. Or your master at Salamandastron."

"Pity. We 'hogs've got insatiable curiosity. Must be one o' the reasons Lord Urthblood picked me for this post."

"Really? I assumed it was because of your willingness to commit assault and battery against the rats of my royal court."

Squillace gave the Sea Lord a toothy grin, missing a few teeth in key places. "Ain't never dished it out to any rat who didn't ask fer it. Gotta admit, they learned their lesson right quick not t' go layin' their grubby paws - or their cowardly canes an' wimpy whips - on the old 'og, didn't they? I helped Lord Urthblood tame the Northlands durin' his campaigns there, an' I've knocked down my fair share o' vermin, even 'fore comin' here. But if you think I'm scrappy, you should see my nephew Tillamook when 'ee gets t' settin' about with that battle mallet of his. Then ye'd see some rat skulls crackin' fer sure! A reg'lar berserker, my Tilly!"

Tratton grimaced at this mental picture. "Then let's both be thankful he's still back on the mainland, because I'd hate to be responsible for slaying any Ambassador's kin. Might complicate diplomatic relations a bit, hm?"

"Reckon it might at that. So, what brings you here this fine sunny morn, Yer Majesty? Rubbin' it in how you get t' wander 'round yer domain free as y' like, while I'm stuck here starin' out at th' same old scenery as yesterday, an' th' day before, an' th' day afore that?"

"It is, as you say, _my_ domain. I am King, after all. And since your memory seems to show some convenient gaps, let me remind you that I've afforded you a fair amount of latitude in visiting many other parts of the palace, and many parts of the island, as long as you go with the appropriate escorts."

"Many, but not most. An' escorted? Frogmarched is more like it, with spears 'n' blades at my belly an' throat if I make one step where they don't want me. Some honored guest ye're makin' me feel like."

Tratton kept his expression regally dour to match the hedgehog's perpetual scowl. "There will be another Fleetrunner dispatched to Salamandastron by day's end. I imagine Lord Urthblood will be expecting your latest report - and we would hate to disappoint him, wouldn't we?"

Squillace snorted. "A report, eh? Be nice if I had anything _to_ report, aside from how many diff'rent ways yer cooks can whip up seabird eggs, or how spankin' clean yer chambermaids keep the indoor latrines, or how rat-made tunics almost fit me just fine as well, 'cept fer my spikes ... "

"Then write nothing, if it pleases you. You are the Ambassador, after all."

"Hrrmph! T'would be nice if I was made t' feel like one once in a while ... "

"All the usual amenities are at your disposal - and you'll find you enjoy a more comfortable lifestyle here than many of my officers can claim, so you're not doing too badly by Terramort by almost any measure you care to use. Perhaps you'll find it useful to remind yourself of that whenever you feel denied in some aspect of these arrangements."

Finishing the last of her triple helping of egg-battered toast, Squillace pushed back her chair and rose, prompting Tratton's guards to tense and tighten their grips on their swords. "Aw, relax, ya starched shirts. I'm just payin' my mornin' visit to the pot. Have yerself a good day, Yer Majesty - whatever it is ye're doin' t'day."

Taking her unilateral and rather indelicate leave of the Searat King thus, Squillace trundled off to her privacy stall while Tratton and his guards withdrew from the suite. Out in the corridor he found Uroza waiting on him.

"So, is there to be a message from the Ambassador on _Fleetrunner Six_, Sire?" the spymaster inquired.

"She's still making up her mind about that, it appears, although we both know there will be. She'll have it ready for you by this evening, unless I miss my guess. She'll want at the very least to let her master know she's still alive and well-tended, if nothing else."

Uroza's whiskers twitched as they strode down the hall. "A beast more coarse than most deckpaws, and that badger sends her to us as his official representative from Salamandastron. If that is not a message to us, I don't know what is. She comports herself like a shrew!"

This observation provoked a bark of laughter from the Sea Tyrant. "I've not known many shrews myself, but the description does seem to fit, doesn't it? Shrewlike indeed, in both speech and manner. In the end, however, it matters not one sail stitch what message Urthblood intended, or what secret purpose she might have for being here. We have neutralized any intelligence threat she might pose by restricting her movements, limiting who she talks to and keeping her under constant surveillance. There is nothing she could have told him these past two seasons that he could not have learned or surmised through other means just as easily. She is a trivial annoyance and occasional diversion, nothing more. And as long as we treat her well, Urthblood will have no grounds for saying we stand in violation of the Accord - at least not on that score."

"Did you inform her you will be leaving Terramort?"

"Of course not ... although she'll likely figure that out on her own soon enough, once I'm gone. But no need to spot your adversary any advantages, is there?"

"A wise course, Majesty."

"Is the _Darktide_ nearly ready for departure?"

"Malvarkis and I will give her a final inspection later this morning. She is fully provisioned and crewed, and should be ready to sail on the noontide, if that is your choosing."

"It is. But first I must stop by the workshops to see how our favorite ferret weapons-crafter fares. He seems bursting with ideas and inspirations these days, and I want to make sure he'll have everything he requires in my absence, so I will pay him a brief visit ... and our inquisitive hedgehog friend will not get to tag along, as much as she would undoubtedly like to."

00000000000

"I need a boat, Yer Majesty."

Tratton regarded his ferret inventor with cool aloofness there on the sea cave docks of Terramort's subterranean shipyards. The place was relatively quiet for a change, most of the available stocks of metals having been used up in hull plating and weapons manufacture and thus leaving no heavy work to be performed at the moment. This allowed master and maker to tarry in the cavernous space without need for ear wadding, and to converse without having to shout.

"You can have your pick of any ship in the fleet for what you need, Clucus. My captains will see to your wishes, and grant you whatever you ask."

The inventor scratched at his jaw in distraction. "I was thinkin' more of a trader vessel, M'Lord."

"We have those too. You'll find a number to choose from around on the western docks, including some recent seizures and confiscations. You're welcome to whichever best suits your purposes."

"Well, y'see, that's th' thing, Sire. None of 'em do. I was out lookin' over 'em yesterday, an' their top decks're all patchwork an' irregular, with no clear level expanse of th' kind I need fer mountin'. Looks like they were all cobbled t'gether without much thought or plannin', with bits 'n' pieces stickin' up all in inconvenient spots, an' awkward hatchways too. I need a boat with a wide, clear deck topside."

"You mean like a barge."

"Nay, a barge'd ride too low in th' water. Need sumpthin' with more height to it."

"Would none of my frigates or galleons do? They have room amidships for catapult platforms, after all. We could clear one of those for you."

"My new shooter takes up a lot more room than a catapult, Sire. An' I plan on mountin' it on a rotatin' turntable, so it can be aimed an' fired in any direction. Our warships have way too many masts 'n' sails 'n' such in th' way fer that t' work - 'ceptin' fer our ironclads, that is."

"The ironclads are the one thing you may not have. They are too valuable to be used for tests and experiments."

"Aye, Sire."

"And wouldn't the problems you cite with our masted vessels also apply to most trader vessels as well?"

"Most, but not all. Seen a few over th' seasons that'd fit th' bill, but none of th' ones tied up out there now are that configuration."

"Could they be modified?"

"P'raps, in time, with a lotta work. But it'd be so much better if we could get one of 'em high seas cargo haulers that's already got th' basic shape I need. I was hopin' t' get this out fer open ocean range testin' 'fore summer. Retrofittin' any of th' ships we got on site'd take too long fer that."

Tratton sighed. Clucus was one of the very few creatures in his Empire who could make such demands of him freely and openly, and reasonably expect that they might be met. Then again, the ferret had delivered time and again, and his latest innovations held great promise indeed.

"Very well. Draw up schematics of the kind of vessel you require, and I will have them duplicated and distributed to all my captains currently ashore at Terramort, and by Fleetrunner to all who are at sea. That way, if they should chance upon such a craft in their voyages they will be sure to recognize it, and take appropriate action."

Clucus grinned and nodded his appreciation. "Thank you, Sire, thank you! Get me that boat, an' I'll build ye a ship killer like none ever seen on th' main before!"

"We already own the waves, Clucus. Make sure it can kill more than just ships, and then you will have truly earned my praise."

"Aye, Yer Majesty!"

Tratton, Uroza and their retinue of palace guards took their leave of the enthusiastic ferret inventor and strolled farther along the underground pier to take in the newest jewel in the searat navy. Nearly completed, the _Reefgrinder_ lay at placid anchor, quiet now except for a small crew within, finishing up some of the interior work. Over three-quarters of the ironclad's hull stood encased in armored plating, with only the uppermost sections and the top deck awaiting application of the fireproof, and perhaps even catapult-proof, outer layer. She would make a fine companion vessel to the _Wedge_ and the _Deeprunner_, and stand as Tratton's grandest such ship so far, increasing the number of steel-hulled battlecraft in the fleet to three. Taken in concert with the strides Clucus had made in treating wood and canvas to make them more resistant to fire, Tratton possessed great confidence that he would soon have a navy far better suited to withstand the kind of attacks Urthblood had sprung upon him in their previous clashes.

One thing remained, however, in his quest to neutralize the threat posed by the Badger Lord ... and his birds.

"Is she not grand, Uroza? One more shipment of ore and she will be finished. Then I'll have three warships Urthblood won't be able to touch!"

"Unless he truly has divined the composition of the stormpowder for himself, as his birds have hinted to you, and has embarked upon the manufacture of his own stockpiles. We've no idea how well armored ships would withstand such bombardment."

"Which is precisely why, in addition to countering _what_ Urthblood drops on us, we must also counter _how_ he drops it - and why my voyage to Talaga will not be just to check on the health and status of the Queen."

"You really think this alliance you propose can be made to succeed, Sire?"

"You would know better than I, Spymaster, since your agents have been the ones laying most of the groundwork for it."

"True. And they've also been paying for their efforts with their lives. Three more slain, at last report."

"Then a formidable alliance it shall be, if fulfilled. Do what you can to open the way for me, Uroza, and if my designs come to fruition, Urthblood will no longer be able to hold the spectre of renewed war and annihilation over our heads for the rest of our seasons!"


	9. Interlude, with Honey Badgers

**INTERLUDE, WITH HONEY BADGERS**

**CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE**

The early days of spring crept by toward the height of the season, Mossflower's forests growing thicker and its greens more verdant and its colorful accents wilder as all the flowers bloomed to their fullest in this visual song of annual renewal. Through sunny days and rainstorms alike, the scent of life reborn wafted on every breeze, the symphonic mingling of pollen and leaf and fragrant earth to herald the arrival of the growing season when vital life reclaimed the dormant lands. And of course the literal symphony of the vernal awakening added its voice to the natural chorus, with the myriad courtship songs of countless birds and the croaks and peeps of frogs and the whirr and chirrup and buzz of all the insects now revived from winter's long sleep. Here, in the lengthening days balanced halfway between spring and summer, the warmer weather inviting robust activity rather than the sweltering stupor to come, the world seemed at its very peak, the ideal pinnacle from which things could not possibly get any better.

But this was to be a springtide unlike any other. Out from Redwall, out from Foxguard, rippled news and actions both stark and disconcerting. And from the coastlands reached out the long arm (and longer wings) of Salamandastron, exerting an influence over Mossflower that no outside power had ever exercised over these woodlands before. And if the more remote stretches of these lands remained at the moment blissfully ignorant of the changes about to break over them, they would not stay that way for long ...

00000000000

"The honey badgers! The honey badgers!"

The mousechild Pryle led the stampede out of the large riverside homestead shared by the mouse and vole families, eager with glee to greet the visiting merchants and their wagon. In no time at all, the travelling badger clan found itself surrounded by laughing and shouting youngbeasts dancing about the stopped cart, each begging for a sneak taste of the sweet product these beekeepers plied as their stock in trade. It was always a festive time and cause for celebration when the honey badgers visited!

It didn't take much longer for the adults to join their boisterous offspring under the morning sun in front of their two-story lodge, equally eager to receive their esteemed guests. Deakyne, patriarch of the mouse family, and his vole counterpart Neblett led a happy procession out of doors to meet their old friends.

Lord Sodexo of the Southern Glades stood puffing between the pulling hafts of the badger-sized transport, his wife Hekko down on one knee alongside him to hug and pat the youthful throng milling about them while their daughter Bostany hung back, regarding the scene with a more serious expression. Sodexo extended his paw when he saw his fond acquaintances approaching, a warm smile splitting his rugged striped face.

"Welcome, Lord, welcome!" Deakyne exhorted. "As you can no doubt tell, we are all happy to see you! It's been too long!"

"Indeed it has, but time has a way of slipping away from one, especially if you happen to be a badger." Sodexo took Deakyne's paw in a firm yet gentle grip, the mouse's smaller appendage all but disappearing in the badger's massive fist. Releasing his amiable grasp, Sodexo greeted Neblett in like fashion, although his gaze strayed to the domicile rearing up behind the family beasts. "Too long indeed, by the look of things. Unless my eye deceives me, your home is different."

"Good eye, Lord, and good memory too," complimented Neblett. "Recently rebuilt, just this past autumn, in fact."

"Rebuilt? Did some manner of misfortune befall you?"

Deakyne nodded. "Sadly, yes. A fierce little vermin in shrew's clothes named Snoga tried to burn us alive when we refused to give that rampaging rapscallion everything he demanded. Fortunately, he didn't realize we had a basement level we shared with our vole friends, where we could retreat and escape the flames without losing a single beast. Neblett and his kin were literally lifesavers on that occasion, and a great boon to us in the season that followed, allowing us to all live down in his dwellings even as they all pitched in to help us rebuild our lodge above. Can't imagine what we would have done without them."

Neblett gave a sheepish shrug. "What're friends for, if not to aid each other at their time of greatest need?"

Deakyne set a paw on the vole's shoulder. "More than friends," he said solemnly. "Family."

"Easy there now," warned Neblett's wife Frodella with a smile." "You can choose your friends but you can't choose your family - an' sometimes relations are the biggest pains in the tail there are!"

"Snoga, you say?" Sodexo prompted. "I have heard of that ruffian, from the shrew tribes of the Big Inland Lake. They told me of strife and struggle in that region which went way beyond Snoga's rebels, and pulled in searats and a mighty Badger Lord as well."

"We've heard very little of those events," Deakyne admitted, "although his misdeeds even before he found his way to us are enough to paint him as one of the vilest creatures ever to tread the paths of Mossflower. And our direct experience with him was quite enough, so that we didn't seek out any other tidings of his further crimes. I honestly believe he would have slain every mouse and vole of us if he'd been able. Do you know what became of that villain, Lord?"

"Slain, by all accounts. He picked a fight with forces far beyond his station, and that sorry affair ended the only way it could have."

"Couldn't have been that sorry an affair if that savage little bully ended up dead," Neblett said. "The lands need a creature like him on the loose like they need a five-season famine!"

"That's true," Frodella agreed, "even if we ought not say such things 'round our young 'uns. I know it's not decent or proper to wish such misfortune on anybeast, but if ever a vile soul earned itself such scorn, in life or death, it was Snoga!"

"It's only reasonable for us to feel that way," said Deakyne, "since since we all nearly paid with our lives. And my daughter did her part in holding off that bristly rabble, taking out more than one of them with her bow!" Beaming, he brought forward a comely mousemaid, tall and slender and proud, just entering her adult seasons. "Jiriel, you probably don't remember Lord Sodexo, since you were but a babe when he last visited us."

Jiriel rolled her eyes in prime adolescent fashion. "I was more than a babe then, Father! Even Pryle remembers him - and, more to the point, we remember the taste of his heavenly honey!"

"Ah! 'Tis good to be remembered!" the badger chortled. "And my honey is, naturally, what brings me here again, as your overjoyed younglings have clearly figured out on their own. An especially fine batch this year, with hints of meadow clover and deep forest wildflowers. It may be my best yet!"

"Then your timing is most fortuitous indeed," Deakyne revealed to the larger creature, "for if you'd happened by a day later than you did, you'd have found most of us gone. We were just about to depart this very morn for Redwall, which we planned to visit for the first time ever!"

"Redwall, you say? How uncanny! That was to be our own destination, once we'd finished here and perhaps made one or two other stops along the way. Perhaps we can travel there together."

"A marvellous idea! Although you'd best keep our families away from your wares along the journey, or there'll be none left by the time we reach the Abbey!"

"I can certainly spare a small pot for our own personal use between here and there, since it will be a journey of several days and hence several breakfasts. And, of course, before we depart we can barter for your more permanent supplies for your household stocks, and what you're willing to trade for them. How much do you think you'll be needing?"

"As much as we can get, if it's even half as good as you've made it out to be. I just hope we've enough to offer in exchange that you'll find acceptable. We did lose a lot of our belongings in the fire, after all."

"I'm sure we can reach terms we'll find mutually acceptable, and I will keep in mind your recent misfortunes in order not to drive_ too_ hard a bargain. But for now, my family and I would most appreciate a short spell off our footpaws in the cool of your lodge, along with some tall drinks of cool river water."

"And food too," his daughter Bostany put in, speaking for the first time. "'m hungry."

"Yes, that would be welcome too," Sodexo added, "although of course any hospitality you extend us beyond shade, chairs and drink will naturally be applied toward your honey debt. I would insist on it."

"You are too kind, Lord."

As everybeast headed inside - with an older mouse and vole agreeing to remain by the cart to guard its contents from greedy paws - Sodexo remarked, "I am so looking forward to visiting Redwall again, it has been so many seasons ... Father Darrow always so looks forward to seeing me, and my honey. No, wait - young Arlyn is Abbot now, isn't he? That's just as well - he likes my honey too!"

Deakyne chuckled and shook his head. "I guess you badgers really do measure time differently than the rest of us! Arlyn retired seasons ago, from what we were told, and Vanessa became Abbess in his stead."

"Vanessa?! No, that can't be - she's just a novice! Has it really been that long?"

"Apparently so, Lord."

"Vanessa - well! But, how do you know these things, if you've never been to Redwall before?"

"Unfortunately, that business with Snoga last spring also involved Redwall to some extent as well, and a couple of those Abbeybeasts made their way down here. We learned much news of their home from them - and not all of it welcome, I'm afraid."

"Oh? Well, you can fill me in on what you feel comfortable with, and I suppose I shall learn the rest from Abbess Vanessa in due time."

Shadows of grief crossed the faces of the gathered mice and voles. "No, I fear you won't, Lord. Come inside - there is still much to tell."

00000000000

When the party of mice, voles and badgers set out along the northeast-leading forest trail, Sodexo didn't tell them where they were going. By midafternoon, they knew.

The cottage sat nestled in the woods like a part of the natural setting, blending so well with its sylvan surroundings that it scarcely seemed like an artificial structure wrought by beasts' paws. Its once-handsome lines, however, had taken on a dilapidated air and a dingy aspect of neglect, as if nobeast had dwelt here for seasons ... or at least not the right kind of beasts.

Sodexo slowed his steps as the rundown state of the dwelling registered on him. "Something is wrong here. My cousin Mavus would never allow her cottage to fall into such disrepair."

Pryle tugged anxiously at Deakyne's sleeve. "Dad ... Dad, this is th' badger's place. Somethin' very bad happened here ... "

Sodexo turned to the mice. "What was that?"

Before the rodent woodlanders could explain, rodents of a very different stripe spilled out of the cottage to confront the travellers. Half a dozen rats, male and female both, each seemingly more coarse and unrefined than the next. They made no secret of the blades and spears they bore, brandishing these arms without apology.

"Whadda you lot want?" asked a burly male with an undisguised sneer, cradling a loaded crossbow in his grungy paws.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sodexo roared, dropping the cart hafts and starting forward toward the rats, flecks of red in his dangerous gaze. "Where is Mavus, and Metellus? What have you done with them?"

"Dunno whatcher jawin' about, stripedog - " the rat raised the crossbow menacingly, " - but if'n you don't want this bolt 'tween yer eyes, ye'll stop right where y' are."

The Badger Lord might not have heeded this warning, had not Deakyne and Neblett each grabbed hold of one arm to restrain the massive creature. "No, Lord! I don't know who these rats are, but they had no part in what happened here!" Deakyne implored.

Sodexo halted, fixing his hard gaze on the mouse. "What do you know of this, friend?"

"We told you of the fox slavers who stole away some of our young ones last spring, and the Redwallers who rescued them and returned them to us. We also told of other youngbeasts rescued from the clutches of those villains as well, and one of those was a badger child who came from this place."

"It's true," Pryle chimed in, sensing in spite of his tender seasons that violence hung close at paw unless proper explanations were offered. "Them foxes slew his mum, an' took him away from here. We passed by on th' way home - the shrews made us little ones stay outside in th' woods while they buried her."

"Mavus? Mavus is dead?"

"I am sorry, Lord," said Deakyne, "but we did not go into details about this earlier because we did not know we would be coming this way, and it never occurred to us that the badgers who dwelt here were related to you in any way."

Sodexo's voice grew hollow as if he were speaking automatically. "There are not too many badgers in Mossflower. Many are related ... "

"For whatever scant consolation it's worth," Neblett put in, "the blackhearts who slew her are all in their graves themselves - our Redwall friends an' the Guosim shrews saw to that. Main thing is, these rats're blameless in any o' that, whatever else their faults may be, so we don't need to go startin' trouble with them, eh?"

"Lissen to yer scrawny pal, stripedog," the crossbow-bearing rat warned. "It's th' best advice ye'll get this season."

Sodexo all but snarled at the rats. "Creatures of your ilk should not be defiling this place of decent folk!" Not allowing any time for a retort, the badger's gaze snapped back to Deakyne. "What of Metellus, her son? What became of him?"

"Rescued," answered the mouse patriarch, "along with all the other youngbeasts otherwise destined for a life of chained misery under the whip. He told the Guosim he had no other family, so he was taken to Redwall to grow up there."

Sodexo nodded, regaining some of his composure. "Yes, I have not visited Mavus since Metellus was very little. If he remembered me at all, he likely would not have recalled my name, or have known where to find me, so I can see why he would say he had no other family beside his mother. You say Mavus is buried here?"

"Yes, sir," Pryle volunteered. "Around back, I think."

"Very well. Very well." Sodexo gave the rats a long look, then went to his cart and took from it a single pot of honey, one with a particularly ornate and intricate design winding around its sides. Approaching the squatter rodents with a more cautious and conciliatory manner, he held forth the fancy vessel. "I apologize for my hostile attitude and unkind words. I see now that you must have come upon this cottage empty and unused, and settled here intending no insult to the creatures who dwelt here before you. This honey was meant to be a gift to my cousin Mavus, whose home this was. Please accept it in her stead, as redress for my ill-informed conduct."

Another male rat, clearly related to the crossbow-wielder, took the pot hesitantly. "Honey, y' say? Is it any good?"

"Only the best in all the lands." Sodexo's level gaze went from rat to rat, meeting each gaze without flinching. "I would ask but one indulgence of you ... "

The first rat waved his crossbow. "We happen t' like honey. Quite fond of it, actshully. Mebbe we'll just help ourselves to th' rest y' got there ... "

"You get one pot. And if your greed should tempt you, I will remind you that I am a Badger Lord. You threatened a moment ago to put that bolt between my eyes. Your aim had best be perfect true, because if you are off by the tiniest fraction, the six of you will lie slain long before I fall to my own wounds."

Emboldened, Neblett stepped forward. "An' we got skilled archers too, so I'm sure we could drop one or two of you before the rest could flee."

The rat worked his jaw, now betraying obvious nervousness, then lowered his crossbow. "So, uh, what was this favor you'd have of us ... ?"

A short time later, the three badgers stood behind the cottage with Deakyne and Neblett at their sides, all five gazing down at the twin burial mounds. Sodexo shot a searching gaze toward the two woodlanders. "Two graves?"

"The other belongs to the stoat Broggen, whom we told you about," said Deakyne.

"The one who slew Redwall's healer, and was slain by Snoga?"

"And helped rescue our young ones from the fox slavers and guide them back to us," the mouse quickly reminded Sodexo. "He served the cause of good under the Badger Lord Urthblood in the Northlands, and before that tragic incident at the Abbey, many Redwallers called him a true friend. He proved his final worth with his last deeds. It's largely due to him that Metellus is free today."

Sodexo digested this. "It seems Snoga affected these lands for the worse far more than I'd realized. It is only appropriate, then, that this Broggen share his eternal rest alongside the mother whose son he saved from a life of torment." Sodexo knelt, placing his large open paw on the stoat's grave. "Rest well, savior of shackled youth, and know that you will always be remembered well by this heart." Moving his paw to the other burial mound, he intoned, "And rest at peace as well, my cousin and my kin, who was taken too cruelly from this life long before her time. May Dark Forest be kind to you both."

Farewells to the departed now given, the travellers were soon underway once more, forging their way along the rough forest trail while the rats stood out in front of the cottage, watching them off with a mix of suspicion, relief and lost opportunity.

"I sure am glad you were with us, Lord," Deakyne said to Sodexo once they were well away from the cottage. "Those rats struck me as the type who might thieve and plunder a band of honest journeybeasts - or worse - and even though we outnumbered them by quite a bit, we're no fighters. And with all the little ones too, we'd dare not risk forcing any sort of confrontation."

"Then again," Sodexo countered, "you might not even have come this way if not for me. This is not one of the more widely-trafficked paths, and only my desire to visit Mavus led me to choose it. But, even though I was to find tragedy here, fate did smile upon me in one small respect, and that was having you here to tell me what happened, and learning that Metellus at least escaped harm and found his way to Redwall. If Hekko, Bostany and I had come upon the cottage on our own and found those rats living there, there might have been bloodshed, because I would have assumed the worst of them."

"Still can't believe you wasted a jar of your honey on those ruffians," Neblett grumbled. "What'd you do that for?"

"Mostly to ease the tension of the situation, although their verminish greed nearly wrecked my gesture. But that pot had been meant for this cottage anyway, and if neither Mavus nor Metellus were here to receive it, perhaps it's only proper to leave it with the current occupants of that homestead. But this now gives me an extra reason to visit Redwall. I shall be most eager to see for myself how Metellus is settling in there."

"I'm sure he's doing splendidly," said Deakyne. "By all accounts, there is no better place in all the lands for an orphaned youngbeast to find the support it needs to grow into a respectable goodbeast."

Bostany, trailing behind the cart as she usually did, gave an indignant snort that only a few of her companions noticed, and was dismissed as a stifled sneeze by most of them.

Neblett glanced back over his shoulder. "Still, it's ranklin' t' see a perfectly good homestead like that fall into the clutches of such creatures, even if they did come into it honestly - or as honest as their sort're able to come into anything. Judgin' by their attitude toward us just now, I'd say they pose a right hazard to any decent wayfarers who come along this trail."

"Then it's a good thing this path is seldom travelled," Sodexo pronounced as he negotiated his laden cart over an awkward tree root with the skill of a seasoned hauler, setting not one jar clanking against another. "Still, I think it would be prudent to mention them to the next goodbeasts we meet, so that the warning can be put out, and anybeast thinking of venturing this way will know to be wary."

**CHAPTER SIXTY**

"So, why're you so grumpy?" Jiriel asked Bostany as they pushed their way along the forest trail.

After leaving the cottage behind the previous afternoon, the procession had failed to reach any other shelter or settlement before sundown, and so were forced to make camp at the next convenient clearing they came upon. Deakyne and Neblett and the other parents, secretly concerned over how well their children might hold up during the long march to Redwall, soon saw they had nothing to worry about; with bedrolls spread on the soft, mossy ground under clear, dry skies, and a roaring fire built at the center of their camp - for what ruffians would dare molest so large a party, and one with three badgers among them, no less? - the youngsters treated the whole thing like a grand adventure, enjoying tales told around the hearty blaze after a delicious dinner and then getting right to bed without any fuss at all, only to rise at dawn refreshed and ready for another day of travel. Mouse and vole mothers and fathers could not have been prouder of their respective broods.

Now, trudging merrily along under the misty overhangs of the morning woods, the adolescent badgermaid greeted Jiriel's inquiry with a sullen sigh. "It's cuz when Mum 'n' Dad leave Redwall, I won't be going with 'em. I'll be staying there."

"That's 'because,' not 'cuz,'" Hekko corrected over her shoulder. "And 'them,' not 'em.' And you've just demonstrated on your own why a season or two of Abbey schooling will do you some good. A proper young Badger Lady is expected to express herself like a well-mannnered and educated beast, and comport herself with the due measure of dignity and refinement."

Bostany rolled her eyes so severely that those walking abreast of her could practically hear the orbs squelch in their sockets.

"You'll be getting to stay at Redwall?!" Pryle almost exploded. "You're so lucky! I wish _I_ was gonna get to stay at Redwall!"

The badgermaid looked down her snout at the mouselad. "Have you ever even been to Redwall?"

"Never hadta. I've heard all about it from two of its bravest warriors! It's got its own lake, and its own fruit grove, an' berry patches, an' green lawns that go on forever ... "

"And its own hives," Sodexo put in, "although, while Redwall's honey can be quite splendid too in its better seasons, it still doesn't hold a candle to mine, if I may be so immodest. That's why Abbots Darrow and Arlyn always took it upon themselves to add a few pots of my own to their stores, for a little extra taste of luxury they'd not normally have to enjoy and savor."

"And it's got a whole great big Abbey all its own to explore," Pryle went on. "Cellars 'n' tunnels 'n' attics 'n' roofspaces 'n' a bell tower, room after room an' passage after passage ... "

"And a Great Hall that could probably seat a thousand beasts - as long as most of them weren't badgers," Sodexo added with a chuckle.

"Don't forget the food and drink," Hekko reminded them. "The best in all the lands!"

"Except for the honey," Sodexo gently chided his wife.

Now it was Hekko's turn to roll her eyes. "Yes, of course, dear. Except for the honey."

Jiriel added her own two acorns. "It's the beds I'm most looking forward to. I hear they're the softest, firmest, most deliciously comfortable beds to be found anywhere! Being able to fall into one of those at day's end will make sleeping out on open ground for a few nights worth it!"

Bostany hung her head. "But it's not home."

Sodexo's tone took a less compromising edge toward his daughter. "I'm sure you'll find it enough like a home once you've given it a chance. Because, of all Redwall's wonderful attributes we've just covered, we left out the most wonderful of all: the Redwallers themselves. Nowhere else will you find creatures of greater character, cheer and hospitality - friendly mice and down-to-earth hedgehogs and boisterous otters and gallant squirrels and sensible moles ... "

"And a Badgermum I fear you may grow fonder of than your own mother," Hekko admitted with a hint of wistfulness.

"At least she's not sending me away to someplace strange ... "

A dour, awkward silence settled over the group then, now that it was apparent that all the good-natured chatter they could muster wouldn't cheer the petulant badgermaid.

Their stilled tongues didn't last long before a pair of squirrels dropped from the trees into the path before them. "Hail there, friends, and welcome to Barrenoak territory!"

Momentary alarm over the strangers' startling entrance quickly gave way to relieved recognition, at least among the mice and voles. "Barrenoak!" Neblett cried out. "T'was your chieftain Deltus who came to our aid last spring, guiding Cyril to us after Broggen was slain. Well do we remember and honor the Barrenoak name!"

"Yes," said the first squirrel, "we thought you might be the very same mouse and vole clan, especially when we heard you speak of going to Redwall."

"We've been shadowing you from above for some time," the second squirrel explained. "It's our custom to track and observe any and all travellers through our woods, from solitary journeybeasts who might be in need of aid to vermin bands apt to cause mischief ... or worse."

"But it's been some time since we've last seen any group as large as yours traversing our territory. Did you perchance intend to pay us a visit at our drey? It would be our pleasure to have you stay with us, for one afternoon or several."

It was the badger who answered. "We would be only too happy to accept your offer of hospitality. My own family's business is the trade of gourmet honey, and if your drey may prove a willing customer in this regard, all the better for us. I am Lord Sodexo of the Southern Glades, and this is my mate Hekko, and our daughter Bostany." Hekko gave a gracious bow, while Bostany barely nodded.

"A Badger Lord, as a guest of Barrenoak? That would be an honor indeed, and a first as well, unless I'm mistaken. I'm Barklom, and this is Kappel, and we will gladly escort all of you to our home, to stay for however long you like. Although - " he favored the badgers with an appraising gaze, " - I don't think some of you will quite fit in our hammock beds, if you should decide to spend the night!"

The two squirrels stayed on the ground to guide the travellers along, since it would make no sense for them to flit ahead through the treetops while the larger party was held to the pace of the badgers' cart. And although some of the youngbeasts might have been most willing to try to keep up with any treebounding squirrel, in the end they all kept to their moderate pace, and so did not reach the grand drey of Tribe Barrenoak until well past noon.

Their reactions upon beholding the site mirrored those of Cyril the spring before, when the young mouse, on his way back to Redwall with the hare Hanchett after Broggen's slaying, had stopped here to rest for a night. The dead but still majestic towering oak, its spreading limbs supporting all manner of platforms, walkways and enclosures, held upright by scores of guy ropes tied to the surrounding trees - it was enough to take the breath away, and quite unlike anything any of the journeyers had ever seen or imagined.

Pryle craned his neck searching out the uppermost extent of the arboreal village. "Do we ... hafta go _up_ in that?"

"Only if you don't wanna stay down here underneath, having us drop our acorn shells and leaf pawwipes and other rude things on top of you!" Kappel joked.

"It does appear rather ... steep," Neblett observed.

"Too steep for badgers, that's for certain," Sodexo assessed. "It seems we'll not be taking advantage of your hammock beds after all, even if you did have any to fit us. We shall have to remain down here with our cart."

"Too bad - the views from up there are pretty spectacular." Barklom turned to the mice and voles. "I certainly hope the rest of you will take at least a quick trip up our ladders to experience the full effect of Drey Barrenoak!"

"Ladders?" Deakyne prompted.

"Oh yes. One of our primary lines of defense - not that any villain with half a brain in its head would dare attack our clan. The only way up from the ground, aside from scaling the bark itself, is by rope ladders dropped from above. Keeps out all the unsavory elements, as you can well imagine!"

"As well as badgers," Hekko wryly remarked.

Barklom grinned. "Can't say we've ever had any otters up their either, or moles for that matter. T'was novel enough just having a mouse and a hare with us last spring!"

Jiriel, adjusting her bow over her shoulder, regarded the high dwellings with no trace of fear or apprehension. "I for one can't wait to go up. It should be quite the experience!"

Pryle, not to be outdone by his older sibling, quickly seconded, "Yeah, me too! I'm not afraid of a rope ladder! Lemme up it!"

And once he'd lent his voice to the matter, all the other mouse and vole youths started clambering and beseeching for a chance to be up the ladders which were only just now being unfurled and dropped as the party advanced to directly below the lofty settlement. Up above, shouts and calls rang out as the Barrenoak squirrels spread word throughout the drey that unexpected visitors had arrived, and all the tribe stirred themselves to make the newcomers welcome.

The third ladder to drop had a burly squirrel riding the end of it; he stepped off easily as the rope egress reached its full extension, alighting on the ground with a practiced spring as if merely stepping from one level surface to another. "Greetings, friends! It's good to see you again - and this time under happier circumstances, I hope!"

"Happier indeed, Chieftain!" Deakyne assured as he and Neblett strode forward to clasp paws with Deltus. "We're on our way for a short vacation to Redwall, as are our badger companions here."

"Redwall, eh?" Deltus mused after Lord Sodexo had introduced his own family. "Your timing might have been a bit better on that score, I'm afraid to say. I've heard that they've got their paws quite full with things these days. But I'm sure they'll make time and room for long-travelled journeyers of good heart such as yourselves, so worry not."

Concern knit Deakyne's brow. "Why? What is going on at Redwall?"

"Let's just say they've experienced a bit of a population explosion lately, by all accounts, and are quite crowded by newcomers in need of a home. I'll fill you in on all the details after you've gotten settled in. Now then ... " Deltus regarded the badger trio. "I'm not sure our drey is really set up to accommodate beast so large or unwieldy as yourselves, I'm afraid ... "

"We were just discussing that, sir," Barklom said. "They agree it's best they not try to climb up."

"Yes, we are quite large," Sodexo concurred with Deltus in good humor, "and in the interests of hospitality, I'll overlook the 'unwieldy' half of your assessment."

Deltus flashed a sheepish grin. "Well then, in the interest of hospitality as well, I could not entertain some of your party up above while others are relegated to remaining earthbound. Therefore, I will have all food and drink and everything else we need brought down from our drey, so that we may celebrate together here under our mighty if leafless oak! Then, once we've had our fill of refreshments and conversation on the forest floor, any of you who wish may come on up for the tour of our settlement, and even spend the night up there if you choose. We are quite proud of our home, and so seldom have the chance to show it off like this!"

"A splendid proposal!" Neblett enthused. "As you can see, even among us mice and voles we've got beasts of all ages, and I'm not sure the very oldest or very youngest would be all that capable of making that climb any better than Lord Sodexo and his family. In fact, even some of our more able-bodied kith and kin might think twice before undertaking such an ascent."

"It would be their loss," Deltus lamented, "since Drey Barrenoak truly is a sight to see, and can't be fully appreciated without going up into it. But, to each its own. For now, let us see to bringing the welcoming feast down to you!" The squirrel chieftain sidled over to Sodexo and gave the Badger Lord a playful elbow in the side. "And what's this I hear about honey, hmmm ... ?"

00000000000

The celebratory gathering under the massive dead oak lasted until nearly evening, with almost every squirrel of Drey Barrenoak descending to partake of the festivities. Deltus and his dreymates listened with keen attentiveness as Deakyne and Neblett described the efforts entailed in rebuilding the riverside lodge Snoga had burned down during the previous spring, how a nearby otter holt had willingly and cheerfully lent their brawn to the reconstruction labors without any expectation of reward, and how members of that very same holt now "housesat" their lodge in the absence of most of the mice and voles, being on paw to watch over the few babes and oldsters who weren't up to making the trek to Redwall.

"I doubt those riverdogs'll see it as any kind of hardship," Neblett concluded. "In exchange for minding our home for us for part of the season, they get free run of the place - their choice of any beds they want, and access to our larders day and night!"

"Not that they're likely to find many otter-sized beds in our home," Deakyne put in. "Unless they like to sleep curled up with their rudders against their bellies, I imagine they'll stick to sleeping on the floor."

"And our food stocks might not hold much attraction for them either," added Frodella. "We never did keep much fresh fish or pickled shrimp on paw!"

After that came Sodexo's turn, sharing all about himself and his family. Since the beekeeping Badger Lord had never before visited or even heard of Barrenoak, the squirrels were most interested in hearing all about him: the glades where he dwelt, the other creatures who lived there with him, and news from his travels over the seasons. All this and more he related, with the easygoing cheer of a beast at home anywhere he found himself.

Lastly, the travellers recounted their tense brush with the rats who'd taken up residence in the former badger cottage. Deltus pricked his ears and sat up straighter at this, and not only because he knew exactly where it was and had previously played a part in the events there surrounding Cyril, Broggen and Snoga.

"It was not the happiest news, to be sure," Sodexo confided, "learning that the relative you'd planned to visit had been slain by vermin several seasons before, and her son very nearly sent into slavery. At least young Metellus escaped such a fate, thanks to the honest creatures who were in the right place at the right time to rescue him. I hope he has fared well at Redwall."

"I can attest that he is," said Deltus. "I myself escorted him to the Abbey once he was freed, along with his little terror of a squirrel friend Budsock, who sadly chose Abbey life over joining us here at Barrenoak - he'd have made a fine addition to our clan. But, we all choose our own paths in life, or sometimes fate chooses for us, and it appears Redwall has chosen Buddy. I saw them again in mid-autumn, when I paid the Abbey another visit before the weather grew too cold for comfortable travel. Both squirrel and badger are thriving there, you'll be glad to hear, Lord, and I'm sure you will find Metellus in good spirits and glad to learn he has a distant relative who happens to be Lord of the Southern Glades."

"Do you suppose he might wish to accompany my family and me back south when we leave Redwall?"

"I seriously doubt it, Lord. Not only has he settled into the Abbey environment and forged fast friendships there, but he's also in training to replace Redwall's healer, who was lost last spring."

"Yes, my friends here have already told me the tragic tale of Broggen and his transgression at Redwall - and of his ultimate redemption in saving young ones from a life of bondage and misery. Then I suppose Metellus has truly found his place, just as his squirrel friend has, all the strands of fate weaving together to deliver him to his intended destiny. I will not seek to sunder him from where he feels he must be."

"And what of Hanchett?" Deakyne inquired of Deltus. "He also played a role in helping Cyril during that nasty business with Snoga. How fares that hare?"

Deltus's expression grew somber. "During my second visit to Redwall, I learned also that Hanchett perished during his vendetta against that shrew. That he and Snoga both died with their paws around each other's neck, throttling the life out of each other."

As the others sat digesting this grim news, Sodexo said, "I had heard that it was a Badger Lord such as myself who put an end to Snoga, after that shrew had aroused his wrath."

"The events surrounding that conflict were rather ... complicated," Deltus replied. "Snoga did indeed attack and destroy one of Lord Urthblood's fortresses, and with the help of searats, of all beasts - truly an alliance of unsavory equals. Urthblood's weapons may have slain most of Snoga's wretched excuse for an army, but in the end Snoga and Hanchett were found dead in each other's fatal grip. I only knew that hare for a short time, but I could tell he was consumed with vengeance, and was like as not to meet such an end as he did."

"Well can I imagine how he must have felt," said Sodexo, "To see the Abbess of Redwall struck down by cowardous treachery, as Hanchett related that incident to my friends here - to witness a mouse of such dignity and wisdom slain without rhyme or reason ... "

"Slain?" Deltus cocked his head in surprise. "The Abbess wasn't slain."

"She wasn't?!" Deakyne and Neblett exclaimed as one.

"She was grievously injured, but she did survive."

"So Vanessa is still Abbess after all?" Sodexo asked.

"Well, no ... " Deltus proceeded to describe the state in which he'd found the former Abbess upon his previous visit to Redwall, while his guests looked on with amazement and were left shaking their heads at such an absurdly tragic situation.

"So, in her stead, Geoff was named Abbot," Deltus concluded. "He seems a fine and sensible mouse, all things considered, although he also strikes me as somebeast who could demonstrate a little more assured forcefulness in his position. But with so many upstanding creatures dwelling there now, Redwall remains in good paws."

"Geoff, Geoff ... " Sodexo tried the name on his tongue and his memory. "I barely recall him at all. A fellow novice and friend of Vanessa's, but I can't say he really made much of an impression on me. Arlyn was still Abbot when last I visited."

"Arlyn lives still," Deltus informed the Badger Lord, "or at least he did as of autumn last, although he is quite along in his seasons. It is mainly he who helps train Metellus in the healer's ways, along with the vixen Mona of Foxguard."

"Foxguard ... the fortress of the red tower. Tell me, I have seen what I take to be that very edifice; it is visible, if tiny and needle-like, from the Southern Glades themselves, atop hillocks and ridges where the trees thin out. Can it really rear so high, to be visible from so far away?"

"It can," Deltus assured with a nod. "Just wait until you behold it from the ramparts of Redwall; that's a sight you'll not forget for the rest of your seasons. Truth to tell, I'm glad the River Moss lies between Redwall and Foxguard. Those swordsbeasts may serve Lord Urthblood, but I will never entirely trust foxes. Never."

"We've never seen it ourselves," Deakyne said. "I guess the trees are too tall around us, and we are down in the river valley a bit. When Lord Sodexo asked us about the red tower, we honestly didn't know what he was talking about, but from his description of its position, we assumed it had to be the fox fortress Hanchett had told us about. We never imagined it to be so tall - although, in all fairness to us and to Hanchett, that structure was still a-building last spring when this news reached us."

"I can't wait to see it!" Pryle burst out. "I bet it's even more splendid than Redwall!"

"Can't testify to _that_," Deltus said, "but it certainly is taller. You'll see it soon enough, once you break from the forest trails into the main north-south road. Then you'll get an eyeful far more spectacular than any glimpse of it Lord Sodexo has ever caught from his southern home."

"Oh, the shots I wager I could make from the summit of such a tower!" Jiriel enthused.

"They might prove less impressive than you suppose," Deltus told the archer mousemaid. "From a thousand steps and more above the ground, wind and distance can wreak havoc with even the keenest shot, sending it far astray. Some of the land's best archerbeasts have tried, and they attest that it's largely useless as any kind of shooting vantage."

"A thousand steps?" Neblett repeated. "Can that be right? That would amount to ... over eighty stories tall, at a dozen steps to a story ... "

"When you see if from Redwall, or even from the road at a distance of just a few days' march, you'll see that it can be that tall, and then some. It truly is an amazing feat of architecture, whatever you think of the beasts who dwell there."

"A brigade of swordfoxes, dwelling across the river from Redwall in a tower that touches the sky, built for them by a Badger Lord like myself." Sodexo slowly shook his head. "Who would have imagined such changes would visit Mossflower in our lifetimes?"

"Change is upon us, that's for certain," Deltus agreed. "But I would hardly say Urthblood is a badger just like yourself, Lord."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Because," the Barrenoak squirrel replied, "I very much doubt that Urthblood is like any other creature who's ever lived."

00000000000

Jiriel awoke with dawn's first pale approach, the slow and lazy rhythm of her gently-swaying hammock lulling her into that hazy state between sleep and wakefulness.

The more daring half of the mouse/vole clan chanced to spend the night up in Drey Barrenoak, availing themselves of the squirrels' offer of swinging hammock beds - or, for those who couldn't get the feel for them and kept falling out, blankets and bedrolls spread out on the drey's flooring. It was a novel experience for one and all, and likely the only chance any of them might ever have of sleeping so high up in a tree, so those who wanted the thrill jumped at the chance while their less adventurous friends and family stayed down below with the badgers.

A light clambering commotion just outside her partly-enclosed shelter brought Jiriel fully awake. Twisting in her hammock to peer out at this early activity - which set her webbed bedding to pitching and rolling like a dinghy on rough seas - she spied Deltus and a couple of other squirrels climbing along the branches toward the upper reaches of their arboreal home. Curious, she swung herself out of the hammock and stood with both footpaws planted on the wood decking, staring up after her ascending hosts.

"Hey, Pryle! Pryle, wake up!"

Her younger brother, stretched out in his bedroll on the plank floor alongside her hammock, mumbled and muttered as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "Huh? Wotsis, sis?"

"Something's going on. Get up, so we can see what it is!"

Pryle lay back on his blanket, groaning. "'s not even sunup yet. Don't wanna get up ... 's too early."

"Get up, or I'll go without you!"

"Go on then, leamme in peace ... " Pryle closed his eyes again, draping his paw over his face as extra protection against the new day's intrusive brightening.

Jiriel huffed, then set out without her stubbornly sleep-loving sibling, loosely following Deltus and his companions at a distance along inclined walkways and simple stairs and nailed ladder slats and sometimes just climbing along exposed tree branches with no infrastructure covering them whatsoever. Heights had never much bothered the intrepid mousemaid, and now she thought nothing of scaling the uppermost byways of Drey Barrenoak almost as effortlessly as if she'd been a squirrel herself. Drawing near the slender, swaying topmost branches where Deltus had stopped, she nearly lost her balance in alarm as she felt a strong grip seize her arm.

"Hey, missy, what're you doin' up here? You shouldn't be this high up!"

Regaining her balance and composure, she shot back, "I was doing just fine until you went and grabbed me like that. And if you don't want your guests up and about, you ought not go waking them before sunrise with so much hustle and bustle outside their sleeping chambers."

The burly male squirrel guard released her, settling back upon the wide limb they shared, a wide grin on his face. "Heh, a spunky one, aren't we? Don't usually see that in mice. You do climb well, I must say. Ever thought of joining us bushytailed treerats as a full-time member?"

"I'll stick with just the occasional treetop forays, thanks. I prefer being a full-time mouse and part-time squirrel." Jiriel gazed up where Deltus and the others labored under the early dawn sky. "What're they doing up there?"

"Oh, just responding to something you folks told us about yesterday."

"Us? What could anything we said have your chief up at this hour, doing ... well, whatever it is he's doing up there?"

"You just watch, missy, and you'll see for yourself!"

So that's what Jiriel did, and as she looked on from below she saw Deltus and his helpers unfold a large sheet of fabric so white it practically gleamed, and together they stretched it taut and pinned it to the branch tips like a sheer sheltering tarp, even though only bare, unbuilt-upon branches lay directly beneath it, hardly in need of any protection from the elements.

"What's that for? I don't understand ... "

Scarcely had Jiriel uttered these words than Deltus, apparently satisfied with his arrangement above, descended along with his companions in the swift, sure manner that only seasoned squirrels can negotiate in the high forest canopy. Halting on the branch alongside hers with a look of surprise, the Barrenoak chieftain asked, "What's she doing here?"

"Got curious, and decided to take a vertical morning stroll," the guard replied with a wink.

"What's that for, sir?" she asked of Deltus, pointing upward. "Some kind of screen to shade part of your home from the midday sun?"

"Yes, I suppose it will serve that purpose too, although that's not its chief function. But I always try to avoid explaining myself twice, so let's go down and join everybeast else for breakfast, and I'll tell you all then."

A short time later, as the early spring sunrise sent its first rays piercing sideways through whatever trees they could penetrate, mice and voles and badgers and squirrels once again sat gathered on the ground beneath Drey Barrenoak, sharing their second and final meal together before the travellers would depart for Redwall. After Jiriel described to her companions what she'd seen the squirrels doing that morning, Deltus picked up from her account for his promised explanation.

"Earlier this season, a delegation of Lord Urthblood's Northland squirrels came to us, asking if we could help them maintain the security of these lands. One thing we agreed to do toward this end was to keep a large signal flag, to be displayed to summon his bird scouts in the event that we should need to alert them to any danger abroad in Mossflower." He pointed skyward to the gently rippling white sheet visible high above. "That's what we did at dawn's first light."

"Danger?" Deakyne asked, confused. "What danger do you speak of?"

"Those rats in the cottage you told us about yesterday. From your description of your encounter with them, I would say they represent a definite peril to any honest creatures who should unwittingly happen upon them. We could have taken it upon ourselves to see to it, even though that cottage lies outside our territory, but Urthblood's forces will be able to tend to the situation far more effectively and efficiently than we could. So, we will tell whatever messenger bird responds to our signal what you have shared with us, and thus will have discharged our responsibility in this matter."

"And then his birds will spread the word through these parts for travellers to beware?" Sodexo surmised.

Deltus hesitated only in the slightest. "Yes, I imagine it will be something like that."

"I wonder which of his birds will come here?" Pryle speculated. "Do you think it could be Captain Klystra? If it is, I'd love to stay and see that!"

Jiriel looked askance at her brother. "I seem to remember you quaking behind Mother over your terror of that fearsome falcon!"

Mortified, Pryle jabbered, "I ... I never did! An' I was much littler then!"

"I cannot say who it will be," Deltus answered. "Klystra is the only bird of Urthblood's I have ever met as well, but I understand that badger has many others in his service, including an entire squadron of fierce and loyal gulls who helped him win his war against the searats."

"I too have heard of his gulls," said Sodexo. "A great number were seen at the Big Inland Lake summer last, more than had ever been seen so far from the sea before, as part of his battle with Snoga. Some reports have him using those birds to deliver terrible weapons to destroy the enemy shrews."

"Redwall too has heard these reports, although - as with anything regarding Urthblood - it can be hard to pin down what is fact and what is wild rumor or speculation. The only thing we can be fairly sure of is that he commands a staggering number of forces, and if you choose to pick a fight with him, you will almost certainly end up dead - or, at the very least, forced to the bargaining table, as were the searats."

This surprised the others. "I thought you said Urthblood defeated the searats," Neblett asked. "Do you mean to say he actually negotiated with them?"

"That he did. Not even Urthblood, with all his power, would be able to totally defeat the searats. Too much of their strength lies far out at sea, beyond the reach of any land creature. But no more would they have free reign of the coastlands as before, with Urthblood standing vigilant to crush any landing they might attempt. So, with each side standing to gain from negotiations, and a ruinous war facing searats and woodlanders alike if their parlay failed, they reached an Accord and called a truce."

"I had not heard of this," murmured Sodexo.

"Nor I," added Deakyne, as Neblett nodded in agreement.

"It makes sense that you wouldn't have," Deltus told them, "since these incidents took place far from here on the coastlands, and involved creatures who seldom venture into the heart of Mossflower and whose influence mostly centers around distant realms and seas. It was quite enough that the affair with Snoga threw these nearer woods into tumult, and it's safe to say that neither Urthblood nor the searats would have inserted themselves directly into Mossflower's business without that shrew to call them here. Once you arrive at Redwall, you may hear far more about these events from those who have recorded them into the Abbey histories, often from direct accounts of those who took part in them."

Sodexo pursed his lips. "So, it seems the reasons for us to visit Redwall keep mounting. My honey trade, my daughter's education, these good folks' desire to see it for the first time and visit an old heroic friend, and now this. But, I do not know if we can stay to witness the arrival of the winged scout you've summoned. Do you have any idea when it will arrive?"

Deltus shrugged. "It could be at any moment, or it might not be until midday, or later. We have never done this before, so we don't really know what to expect."

"In that case, we cannot tarry here for something which might not occur until much later today. We must be off after this fine morning meal, with thanks to you for your hospitality."

"Your complimentary pot of honey is thanks enough, so feel no obligation to stay here longer than your travel schedule will allow, out of any sense of formality or protocol."

"And your larder basket of acorn delicacies is ample payment and then some for my honey. My mouse and vole friends and I will enjoy them well between here and Redwall."

And so, the morning meal taken, the woodlander company packed up all their belongings and made ready to travel once more. When no bird of Urthblood's had appeared by the time they'd finished these preparations, they made their final farewells and set out along the forest trails, guided by the two escorts Deltus assigned to show the mouse and vole and badger families the most direct route to the main north-south path.

Deltus stood in one of the lower branch semi-rooms of Drey Barrenoak watching the procession recede into the forest, the lightly-jostling badger cart surrounded by a cheerful array of marchers. Beside the squirrel chieftain stood Gravina, a powerful and influential matriarch of the tribe.

"You didn't tell them," she said, her tone neither complimentary nor accusatory.

"I told them enough. They know I'm helping Urthblood keep watch over these woods, and that I'm in communication with his birds."

"But not your specific reason for summoning them now ... or what will become of those rats who've moved into the old badger cottage."

"What happens at the cottage is none of our concern. As I told our guests, that lies outside Barrenoak territory."

"It will become our concern if some of us have to guide Lord Urthblood's forces to the cottage, and be on paw to witness what happens there. We should not be drawn into anything like that."

"We won't be. If it comes to that at all, we will serve as guides, and nothing more. I'll order our own squirrels to stand back once the cottage is reached, and leave it to the Gawtrybe to do as they must."

"I hope we can keep it as neat and as clean as you make it sound. But I am still not sure it was right to keep these things from those good creatures."

Deltus pursed his lips. "They will find out for themselves soon enough, Gravina - once they reach Redwall, if not before."

The old female squirrel shook her head slowly. "It's the 'before' I'm worried about."

**CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE**

Once they were out on the main north-south path, the travellers didn't have to go very far before a break in the trees afforded them their first unobstructed view of Foxguard's upper reaches.

Mice and voles and badgers stopped in their tracks, simply standing and staring awestruck up at the red tower for long moments. At length, Neblett broke their collective silence. "I'm looking at it ... but I don't believe it!"

Sodexo nodded. "This is also my first glimpse of the structure from so close a vantage, seeing it at last as more than an indistinct rosy needle rising above the distant horizon. So, that's what it actually looks like ... "

"I can't understand how we never saw this from our home," Deakyne remarked, scratching at his jaw. "Even after hearing what you and Deltus had to say about it, I still could not have envisioned anything so tall. I'm of a mind with my vole friend here: I stand beholding it with my own eyes, but I can scarcely dare credit it."

"And I would estimate we are still at least a day or two's march away from it," Sodexo reminded them. "From the battlements of Redwall, it must reveal itself as every bit as spectacular as Deltus claimed."

Pryle, his attention already drawn upwards by Foxguard, tipped his head back even farther to take in another aerial attraction not yet commented upon by anybeast else. "Hey, look up there! Birds!"

The others followed his gaze and excitedly-pointing paw to see for themselves the circling, wheeling and gliding winged shapes high above, their darker forms clearly silhouetted against the blue afternoon sky.

"Do you think those are Lord Urthblood's birds?" Deakyne asked of nobeast in particular.

"I could not say," Sodexo answered. "Now that we have left Deltus and Barrenoak behind us, we have none among us who might qualify as experts in this area. You have met one of his warrior birds once, which happens to be exactly one time more than I ever have. But at their current altitude, I cannot clearly make out what species they are. Certainly larger than sparrows or starlings or robins, I would say, but they could as easily be gulls as any kind of raptor."

"Either of which can be dangerous," Neblett quickly added. "And if they're not Urthblood's ... "

"Yes, caution and alertness are certainly called for," Sodexo agreed. "It seems unlikely that they would harass a party as large as ours, especially with badgers among us, but when large birds flock in numbers, they can prove unpredictable, brash and brazen. We'd best be on our guard, and ready for anything. If they do trouble us, look to the youngsters first, since they could be most easily borne aloft."

Jiriel unslung her bow from her shoulder. "Trouble us? Make off with one of my brothers or sisters or cousins? I invite them to try!"

Deakyne scanned ahead. "It looks like things are opening up a bit up ahead, at least to our left."

Sodexo nodded. "The woodlands to the west are starting to give way to the Western Plains. The forest on that side will grow patchier and more sparse as we proceed, yielding eventually to wide rolling meadows with only the occasional copse of trees."

"That bit up there looks like those Plains are nearly upon us," Neblett assessed. "Wonder if that'll help or hinder us as far as those birds are concerned?"

"It will certainly give us less protection and cover if they should dive down at us," said Sodexo. "Best look to the east in such a case, where the forest still hews close to the road's edge. The leaves and branches there should help disrupt any attack they may have in mind."

And so they all kept one eye on the sky and the other on the thick woods to their right - and it was the forest which rewarded their vigilance first, as a fewscore paces later they saw a large group emerge from the shadowed treetrunks with a definite sense of purpose and destination. Sodexo raised a paw to halt his procession, until it could be determined whether these strangers were friend or foe.

At first glance they seemed both: a half dozen or so bushytailed squirrels clad in dull greens and browns and grays, along with nearly a score of rats, marching stiffly and stumblingly among them. The reason for their clumsiness quickly became clear, as the mice and voles and badgers realized the rats all had their paws bound, and were being sternly marshalled along by the armed treebeasts.

"It's Deltus's squirrels!" Pryle burst out.

"And the rats from the cottage!" Jiriel added.

But Sodexo shook his head. "We left Barrenoak and the cottage well behind us to the southeast, and these creatures are coming from the northwest. And those outfits of the squirrels are different from any worn by Deltus and his tribe - almost like uniforms, or forest camouflage. And look at the rats - far many more than were at the cottage, or even could have fit in that dwelling. No, these are completely different beasts."

"Well, if those aren't Barrenoak squirrels," Deakyne asked, confused, "and those aren't the rats from the cottage, then who are they?"

"An excellent question." Sodexo resumed pulling his cart forward. "I propose we go ask them."

As the Redwall-bound contingent looked on, the squirrels urged the rats across the road ahead, crossing from the sheltering woods out into the open fields. It seemed as if one or two of the bound rodents might have cast desperate, imploring glances southward upon spotting the woodlander caravan, but they were pushed and prodded along before they could call out. One of the squirrels, taking a momentary break from butting at the rats with his longbow, paused to stare skyward, then waved his weapon up at the birds cruising high overhead before rejoining his comrades in their prisoner march.

"Whoever they are," observed Deakyne, "they seem acquainted with those birds up there, and aren't afraid of them at all."

Sodexo nodded. "Whatever is going on here speaks to a high degree of organization. I've no doubt those are military beasts, engaged in some mission or purpose. And I would truly like to know, if I may, what this is all about before moving on to Redwall."

As they drew abreast of the spot where squirrels and rats had crossed the road, they glanced to their left and saw the prisoners and their captors bearing down on a pair of shrews, who stood in the midst of what appeared a temporary encampment out on the fringes of the Plains. "What's this now?" Deakyne wondered, "shrews too?"

Sodexo released his grip on the pulling hafts, letting his cart drop to rest on its forward struts. "Stay here. I will see to this." Striding forward, he left his travel companions in the road as he stepped out onto the grassy meadow and approached the strangers. For their part, having moved beyond the path and dismissing the mice and voles and badgers as inconsequential, the squirrels now stood so intently engaged with the waiting shrews that they barely acknowledged Sodexo as he neared, which gave the Badger Lord ample opportunity to overhear their heated conversation.

"Why are there only two of you?" the lead squirrel demanded. "There was supposed to be a whole escort squad here. Where are the rest?"

"One of Cap'n Scarbatta's gulls came by just this morn with intelligence 'bout a whole cabin in th' woods full o' rats off to th' southeast a ways, so most of us went off t' round 'em up an' bring 'em back here. Left th' two of us t' mind camp."

"Well, when will they be back?"

The shrew shrugged. "Depends how far 'tis, how quickly they find it, an' how much of a fight those rats put up. Could be later today, could be a couple o' days - who c'n say?"

The squirrel hooked an irate pawthumb over his shoulder at the rats. "Then what are we supposed to do with all of them? We brought them here for conduct to the seacoast. There was supposed to be a full complement stationed here at this transfer point to relieve us of prisoners. Two of you won't be able to manage it by yourselves."

The shrew was clearly growing tired of the squirrel's superior and quarrelsome demeanor. "Then I guess ye'll just hafta abide with 'em here t' watch over 'em until our mates get back with their own prisoners, eh?"

"We can't wait around for what could be days! We're needed back in the forest to proceed with the sweeps! Your fellows never should have gone after those cabin rats on their own - you should have waited until some of us Gawtrybe could be summoned to make a proper job of it. We'd have had it done in half the time!"

"You weren't here, we were, so we decided to see to it ourselves. Who knew when th' next batch o' you bushtails would be along?"

"Well, we're here now, and the shrews we need aren't. What are we supposed to do now?"

The shrew had clearly had enough. "Go soak yer sodden tails fer all I care. We'll move these rats when we move 'em, an' that'll be when we're good an' ready!"

The squirrel chuffed out his whiskers in agitation. "We need more beasts for this," he muttered sourly, then his gaze snapped around to Sodexo as if the badger had only just materialized out of thin air. "Yes, can I help you?" he spat.

"What is going on here?"

"Who wants to know?" the shrew bit off, suddenly now very much on the same side as the squirrel he'd been arguing with a moment before.

"I am Lord Sodexo of the Southern Glades, on my way to Redwall for a visit."

"Southern Glades, eh?" the squirrel assessed. "Then you're not from around here and have no standing in this matter."

"I am not local, if that is what you mean, but at least I am from Mossflower. Your own accents betray Northland tones. So I will ask again, what goes on here?"

The squirrel seemed about to rebuff Sodexo a second time but then thought better of it, perhaps realizing the creature he faced was a Badger Lord like his own master. "These rats are fugitives in our custody, and we're taking them where they must go."

"Fugitives? They are criminals?"

"In a sense, yes, since they stand in violation of Lord Urthblood's laws. They opposed the rules which safeguard these lands, which is why you see them bound before you."

"I see," Sodexo said, although in reality he didn't. Running his studious gaze over the rats, who stood staring back at him with a mix of hope and fear, he said, "I see children among these prisoners. What was their crime?"

"I've already told you," the squirrel replied, his tone growing curt once more, but before he could continue, several of the rats cried out.

"Help us, please, Mister Badger sir!"

"We're just simple family rats, woodlanders like you!"

"We been turned outta our homes an' forced away at swordpoint!"

"We ain't never committed no crimes, jus' keepin' to ourselves an' mindin' our own business when these murderous treejumpers came along!"

"They slew my auntie fer raisin' her fryin' pan to 'em!"

Before the babbling rats could plead their plight further, several of the squirrels and one of the shrews lay into them with heavy blows from longbows and the flats of swords, smacking their protests to silence. The children among them whimpered in terror, tears in their wide eyes.

"Stop that!" Sodexo bellowed, and to their own surprise the squirrels and shrew obeyed, ceasing their punishment. "I cannot let this proceed until you have explained yourselves more fully. What exactly do these rats stand accused of doing?"

The head squirrel set his jaw hard. "I'm done explaining. This matter is none of your concern. These rats stand in violation of the Accord which safeguards these lands - and that's all you need to know."

"The Accord?"

"Between Lord Urthblood and Tratton, that keeps the searats at bay. So you see, this is Salamandastron business, and we must ask that you not interfere."

"Salamandastron? I do not understand. We are nearly as far from that coastal fortress here as you are from your Northland home, so by what authority do you conduct yourself so here in Mossflower? I would insist upon answers to this, according to my species and my station."

"Then how's this for an answer: we do serve a Badger Lord - and it's not you. So step away now, or you'll be guilty of hindering our sanctioned campaign."

"These are still free lands, the last I was aware, and I choose not to obey creatures who display the disrespect and arrogant ill manners of common ruffians. These rats you call criminals show better grace than you do, and furthermore - " Sodexo found himself talking to the back of the squirrel's head, the archerbeast having turned away from him in dismissive disdain. The badger reached out and grabbed the other creature's arm to spin the squirrel back to face him ...

... and, in an instant, found four drawn shafts aimed dead at him, the other squirrels nocking arrow to bowstring with lightning reflexes and staring him down with uncompromising coldness.

"You do _not_ want to interfere with Lord Urthblood's campaign," the lead squirrel growled at him with undisguised menace. "Now release me and move on, because my squad _will_ use lethal force to end this."

"You are in the way. They would not dare shoot."

"Badgers are big targets. They'd shoot around me ... and we Gawtrybe never miss."

Sodexo chewed on this a moment, then let go of the squirrel and stepped back; being a minor Badger Lord, he wore no armor, merely ordinary fabrics which would provide no protection against expertly-launched arrows. "Very well. But I will see to it that Redwall hears of this, and knows what went on here."

The other straightened his tunic in smug fashion. "Be my guest. You'll not be telling them anything they don't already know."

Puzzled by this statement, Sodexo turned and trudged back to the road where the others awaited him, looking on in alarm. "Lord, what went on there?" Deakyne inquired. "We thought they were going to shoot you!"

"They very nearly did, I suppose. I believe only my standing as a Badger Lord allowed me to push the matter as far as I did before they threatened violence. Those beast are not to be trifled with, and I pity those rats for being in their captivity."

"Why? What's going to happen to them?"

"The same, I suspect, as will happen to the rats from Mavus's cottage. I overheard those squirrels and shrews arguing about it as I neared. There were more shrews here than just those two, and I gather the others have left to round up those rats we left behind and bring them here to join these unfortunates - and after that, it appears they are all bound for the coastlands."

"The coastlands?" Neblett repeated. "Whatever for?"

"I could not say." Sodexo once again stepped between the pulling hafts of his cart, took strong hold of the two rods and resumed his plodding forward progress, wordlessly beckoning the others to pick up their pace as well. "I came away with more questions than answers myself, but that one squirrel implied Redwall knows more of this than we do ... and now, in light of this incident, I am more eager than ever to reach the Abbey, to see what light those good folk can shed on this mystery."

00000000000

Half a day out from Redwall, the woodland travellers drew to a halt before the rustic inn fronting the east side of the road.

"Grayfoot's Tavern," Sodexo read from the quaint wood-burnt sign stretching across the top face of the establishment above the door lintel. "This was not here when last I came this way."

His wife Hekko couldn't resist a loving jab at her long-lived spouse. "Well, considering that, by your own admission, the last time you came this way was one Abbot and one Abbess ago, it's hardly surprising that some things have changed, is it? And let's face it, a modest roadside inn is much less eye-opening than a skyscraping tower of stone, you must admit ... "

"I think I know what this place is," Deakyne volunteered. "When they were amongst us last spring, Cyril and Broggen and Hanchett made mention of a tavern to be built by a former ferret captain of Lord Urthblood's who was retired from service in the North and sent down to Mossflower with his family to settle here. And the name Grayfoot does sound familiar ... "

"Another of Urthblood's beasts, hm?" Sodexo sounded less than enthralled by this revelation, as his gaze went from the tavern to Foxguard and back again. "Does that badger mean to make all of Mossflower his own?"

"It does almost seem that way these days, doesn't it?" Neblett looked to his companions. "So, do we go in for a spell to wet our whistles and rest our weary legs, or do we press on to Redwall?"

"I am not enamored of the idea of patronizing a ferret," Sodexo admitted.

"Nor I," Hekko concurred. "All our experiences with those beasts have been of the bad sort."

"But this's s'posed to be a _good_ ferret," Pryle declared, "just like Broggs was a good stoat, and that one-eared weasel living at Redwall is a goodbeast too."

Sodexo raised an eyebrow. "There's a weasel dwelling at the Abbey?"

"Last we heard, yes," Deakyne replied. "But, like my son says, he's reputed to be a decent creature, just as Broggen was."

"And what of this ferret?" Sodexo waved a paw toward the tavern.

"Well, I suppose we've nothing to lose by poking our heads inside and seeing what there is to see. Surely a party as large as ours had nothing to - "

At that moment a ferret lad, little more than a toddler, appeared around the north side of the structure, skipping and running in carefree play ... until he caught sight of all the travellers stopped before the building and froze, standing in the road regarding the strangers with wide eyes and slack jaw. For several heartbeats the tableau held, then the young ferret spun and raced back behind the tavern, yelling at the top of his lungs, "_Badgerses! Badgerses!_"

"Our reception committee?" Bostany wryly remarked.

"He did seem a bit young to be the proprietor," Frodella chimed in.

"Then let's go see if we can find Mr. Grayfoot himself," Sodexo said, setting down the front of his cart. "I suppose we should at least meet the beast."

As the others fell into line and filed in after the three badgers, Jiriel glanced up at the signage. "Grayfoot ... strange name for this place, or for a beast."

"You think it should be called 'Grayfootpaw's' instead?" Pryle contended.

"Well, when you put it that way ... "

Inside, the limited light filtering through the small box windows cast the interior in a semi-gloom, forcing their eyes to adjust from the outdoor brightness. As the details of the large open room came into focus, Sodexo and his cohorts saw that the place was completely deserted, save for a solitary female ferret sitting placidly at a table near the bar. Wearing a simple but refined gown, the lone creature regarded them with neither welcome nor challenge in her eyes, taking them all in as if this was merely a play and she was out in the audience somewhere.

"Hullo," Sodexo greeted, nodding to the ferret. "Is Grayfoot around?"

She shouted out over her shoulder to somebeast unseen, "Gray! Customers!" Then she returned to her demure, unemotive study of them.

A jostling and clanging came from somewhere in a back room behind the counter, and a male ferret appeared through the door, wiping his paws with a rag. "Customers? Now? Just when we're about to - " He never got to finish what it was they were about to do, eyes going agog at the sight of so many creatures packing his modest tavern - more, by the look of it, than there were available seats in the dining area. "Fur," he muttered, casting aside his towel and stepping out from behind the bar. "Sorry, folks, but we were just closin' up. Kitchen's shut down, so no meal service, although I might be able t' dispense a quick drink, long as y' don't tarry overmuch."

"Closing?" Sodexo mildly rumbled. "But it's only early afternoon."

"Aye, an' just enuff daylight left t' make it to Redwall by ev'nin'."

The badger's eyebrows went up. "Redwall? That's where we're bound. You're going there too?"

Grayfoot nodded. "It'll be our first visit there since 'fore winter - me 'n' my wife Judelka here, an' our whelp Percival, who's around here somewhere ... "

"Yes," Deakyne said, "we saw him outside, if only briefly. He certainly knows we're here."

"Ah. Well, gonna hafta round 'im up soon, so's we c'n be on our way, so if you folks don't mind ... "

Sodexo took in the tavern room, which had clearly been empty before their arrival. "It does not seem you have any patrons to keep you here - aside from us, that is, and we are perfectly happy not to trouble you for any refreshment if that would delay your own departure. Perhaps we could travel to the Abbey together."

"Uh ... yeah, don't see why not. If ye're sure you don't want aught t' drink ... "

"We've water pouches freshly filled from the last stream we encountered. We'll be fine."

"Okay, then. Hey, Judy, go out an' wrangle up Percy, an' I'll meet you out front ... "

"Are we leavin' fer Redwall now?"

"Aye, that we are, Jude."

"We ain't gonna feed these beasts first?"

"Nay, kitchen's closed. We'll have some sips on th' way."

"Oh. Okay." The ferretwife stood, with no particular grace or awkwardness, and ambled to the rear of the building, disappearing from view moments before everybeast heard the muted opening and closing of a rear door.

"Hard of hearin', is she?" Neblett commiserated. "I mean, she was sittin' right here while we were talking ... "

Grayfoot shook his head. "Sadly, th' problem's 'tween her ears, not in 'em. She's hard o' thinkin', not hearin'. Sweet liddle thing, but she ain't th' swiftest arrow in th' quiver, if y' take my meanin'. Needs a liddle extra attention an' guidance ... "

"Oh." Neblett looked after the departed ferretwife. "That can't be easy, runnin' this place an' with a young one to boot."

"Oh, she's good fer helpin' out 'round th' place. Doesn't do too bad, once she gets th' hang of a routine. Not exactly like I got patrons bangin' down my door. Most folks in these parts still ain't very trustin' of ferrets ... "

"So it seems, to judge by what we saw some squirrels and shrews doing to others of your ilk," said Sodexo. "You should be happy they have not yet seen fit to treat you similarly."

"Whaddya mean, of my ilk?" Grayfoot asked, showing alarm. "I've had Gawtrybe stationed here off an' on fer over a season ... "

"Well, they were rats," Deakyne clarified.

"Oh. Well, o' course they were," Grayfoot responded, showing obvious relief. "You had me goin' there fer a tick ... "

"Rats, ferrets - lotsa woodlanders would lump 'em together," Neblett observed. "Aren't you worried about those squirrels coming for you too? Or didn't you know about this?"

"Oh, I know, awright," Grayfoot assured them. "But this's about rats, not any other species. Not ferrets, or stoats or weasels or foxes ... "

"Why just rats?" Sodexo inquired.

"It's the Accord, o' course. 'Tween Lord Urthblood an' King Tratton. His rats there, an' ours here. That's what it's all about."

"So you know what is going on?" the badger pressed. "Why honest family rats are being turned out of their homes, forced to march bound and at swordpoint to the coast, and slain if they resist?"

Grayfoot swallowed nervously, then nodded. "Yeah, I do, more or less."

"Tell us."

And so he did.


	10. Chapter 62

**CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO**

The oversized tub in the center of Foxguard's cellars called to Mona.

She found herself, and not for the first time in recent days, standing in the doorway to Trelayne's workshop, staring in at the giant vessel. The sculpting of the glass memorial statue for Machus had reached the point where the marten artisan and his fox assistant now spent most of their work day out on the lawns, since the finished product would be too big to easily or safely move up the stairs or through the narrow doorways. It made much more sense to carefully carry small batches of the tempered vitriol up and out to where the massive block of newly-wrought crystal stood being meticulously shaped, over the course of many days, into the likeness of Lord Urthblood's first Sword.

And the amounts of the corrosive fluid required for this endeavor had proven prodigious indeed. Already, Trelayne and Kyslith had burned through an entire master vat of the vitriol, necessitating the distillation of a second tubful. It was that near-brimful vessel of the concentrated substance which stood before Mona now. With nobeast else around to stop or caution her, she did what she'd so far never dared, and stepped over the threshold into the chamber.

Ever since that morning when raised voices had drawn her to this room and she'd arrived to overhear the tail end of an argument between Trelayne and Custis as to whether somebeast might have been disposed of in the vitriol, something inside Mona had stirred as it hadn't in many seasons. She found herself pulled to this place, seduced by a morbid fascination she could neither explain nor deny. When Tolar had first informed her to expect Trelayne's arrival and asked how she would feel about the marten working with the vitriol within Foxguard, she could not have predicted her emotions with any certainty, in spite of her assurances to her mate. Did the prospect fill her with foreboding, render her anxious or unable to sleep or concentrate, or instill a sense of paralyzing dread? To be honest with herself, she'd felt none of these things - just an empty and curious expectancy, as if she herself were waiting to see what feelings would manifest themselves. Even after the marten's establishment of his workshop - indeed, even after that first batch of concentrated vitriol had been formulated - Mona felt nothing special in regard to the presence of the deadly liquid which held such personal and tragic connotations for her; it was all just part of the work that needed to be done. But once she heard others discussing the idea of somebeast being immersed in the vitriol under nefarious circumstances, her emotions toward this situation had finally been triggered.

They were not the feelings she would have anticipated.

Mona stole slowly into the chamber, senses tingling, every nerve alert. Her pawpads gently scraped against the cool stone floor, transmitting to her brain every nuance of the smooth surface, and her fur faintly bristled with excitation as she gulped in mouthfuls of the vaguely vinegar-tinged air. The tub's heavy lid had been left raised, since Trelayne and Kyslith would be coming and going for more of the vitriol as they needed it, and the fluid's acrid odor permeated the workshop - not enough to make the eyes sting or irritate the throat, but enough to be noticeable. Lamps and lanterns cast the scene in a gloomy glow, not too unlike what she herself worked under in her own surgery just down the corridor. It almost made her feel at home here.

Savoring the thrill of a young kit doing something she wasn't allowed, Mona breathlessly crossed to the open vitriol vat.

"Be careful, sister."

"I know what I'm doing," Mona replied to the ghostly visage of her older sibling, hanging back in the concealment of the shadowed recesses, just as she always did. "But I have to do this ... I must face this, on my own terms."

A simple wood trestle, like an elevated bench, had been positioned along one side of the vat to provide an additional work counter for Trelayne and Kyslith. Tail twitching in anticipation yet hesitant still, Mona climbed up onto the trestle and squatted down on her haunches upon it, now level with the vessel's rim.

Looking down, she beheld the calm expanse of the vitriol spread out before her like a miniature underground pond. Reflected lamplight glittered upon its placid, mirrorlike surface like stars in a mountain lake on a clear autumn night. The only sound was the light rasp of her breathing and the thumping of her heart in her ears; the weasels elsewhere in the cellars must have been taking one of their frequent breaks from their own labors, lending a rare silence these days to Foxguard's lower level. So peaceful, so still - it was easy to see how anybeast who didn't know better might mistake the vitriol for something utterly harmless, perhaps even water.

But Mona knew better.

Staring at the lethal fluid as if held in its trance, Mona softly murmured, "What was it like for you, sister? What did you feel in your final moments?"

"What do you want me to say?" came the voiceless reply from the corner of the round room. "That it burned like liquid fire until I blacked out? That it felt like drowning and burning at the same time, with the stuff going in my eyes and up my nose and down my throat as I screamed my last, all that flesh being destroyed on contact before I could even taste or smell what was annihilating me? I suppose I might not have felt much at all, being so overwhelmed so quickly I might as well have been smashed in the face by a Bloodwrath-gripped badger's battle mace. I am not sure I remember, and not sure I want to."

Mona continued to gaze raptly at the still, sparkling surface. "Still, to be so consumed ... to be rendered from a living, breathing, feeling, thinking, healthy beast to absolute nothingness in a matter of heartbeats ... to go from full life to utter nonexistence like that ... "

"It wasn't absolute nothingness. There were still a few fizzling bits of me floating around in the vat, and some sizzling residue clinging to the sides - as you may have noticed, if you'd not been hiding in the cabinets under the work tables."

"Where you put me."

"True. And it worked, didn't it? You survived, while I ... "

Mona shifted on her haunches, leaning slightly forward over the vitriol, steadying herself with one paw while she reached out with the other, lowering her arm until her splayed pawtips threatened to make contact with the shimmering, caustic surface. "I wonder ... I ... "

"Mona! What are you doing?!"

The alarmed shout shattered her reverie, throwing her off balance - and with her center of gravity already shifted forward as it was, Mona was seized by a moment of panicked terror as she realized she was pitching forward into the vat.

Perhaps she only fleetingly imagined her peril, for the next thing she knew, strong paws had gripped her tail and arm and pulled her back down to the safety of the stone floor. Catching her breath, wobbly on shaky knees, she found herself staring into the concerned eyes of Kyslith.

"Mona! What were you thinking?!"

"I was fine until you came along," she shot back defensively. "You startled me."

"What are you doing down here? You shouldn't be here - it's dangerous!"

"My own work area happens to be here on this level, just a few doors down. I pass by all the time. And I'll remind you that Foxguard was my home long before you and Trelayne came here to set up shop, so I will go where I please."

Kyslith stood momentarily at a loss; Mona seemed to have collected herself almost at once, asserting her dominion over this situation and brooking no argument. Why, she came across as less rattled by the incident than he was! "But ... Mona, what were you trying to do just now? It almost looked as if ... "

"As if what?" Her demanding gaze did not waver, holding fast on him.

"Mona, you would never seek to harm yourself, would you?"

At first she gaped at him as if his words were gibberish. Then she barked with harsh laughter. "Is ... is that what you think I was doing? Oh, no! No no no! Nothing like that! I was merely ... curious. That's all."

Kyslith considered this. "And has your curiosity been satisfied?"

Mona took several moments to answer. "I think so. I faced what I came here to face."

"Well then." The male fox took her by the arm with firm courtesy and walked her toward the hall. "In that case, I think we should be going now ... and I think you should ask permission before coming in here again, be Foxguard your home or not."

"Yes ... yes, you speak wisely, Kyslith. I can see why Master Trelayne would want such an intelligent creature as yourself for his assistant. But, didn't you come down here for something? Please don't let me keep you from your work."

"It's no trouble, ma'am, none at all. Let's see to getting you someplace more fitting for a gentle healer vixen. My errand wasn't anything that can't wait."

"As you say." Mona stole one last glance back at the silent tub as they passed out into the curved corridor ... and with that glance she knew that she wasn't done with this matter. That, indeed, she might just be getting started.

00000000000

Custis and Tolar stood side by side in the Sword's third-floor meeting room, jointly regarding a map of Mossflower the Gawtrybe had brought with them from Salamandastron. The spread, smoothed parchment took up most of the large tabletop, and presented detailed depictions of all the region's prominent and noteworthy geographical features. In light of what the preceding days' reports had brought, the squirrel captain did not like what he was looking at.

His paw moved from landmark to landmark. "We've got vast expanses of forest north of us, some going all the way to the Eastern Sea, with the Moss running right through it, making easy travel and operations difficult. We've got equally vast tracts of woodlands all around Redwall and Foxguard stretching south to the Big Inland Lake, where if anything they grow even thicker and alternate with impassable bogs and water meadows. And then there's the high wall of the Dancing Cliffs - I don't see us getting beyond there before autumn, at the earliest."

Tolar gave a smirk. "It could be worse, Captain: Lord Urthblood could have assigned you Southsward as part of your immediate campaign as well."

"I'm sure that will come in its own good time," Custis replied primly, ignoring the fox's stab at levity. "Something this big must be taken in stages: the Northlands first, then Mossflower, and then, if it be our master's will, Southsward. Beyond that, Tratton can round up his own rats."

"I still don't see what the problem is," said Tolar, returning to the subject at paw. "The Northlands presented variations in landscape and terrain similar to Mossflower, if not moreso, and by all accounts the campaign there went smoothly and quickly. Mossflower may be a little bit larger, I'll grant you, but I'm sure Lord Urthblood will provide you with more beastpower if you request it."

Custis scowled at the map. "It's not just the size of the territory, or the number of Gawtrybe at my command. See here - the Western Plains? And beyond them, a mountain range which effectively cuts off the coastlands from our zone of operations. There was nothing like that up north. I've no doubt of our ability to execute our sweeps and gather up all our targets - or deal with those who resist - but it's conveying them to the coast once we have them that's the hitch."

"Isn't that what the shrews are for?"

"That was the plan. But once we've passed our resettlers on to them, they still have to go all the way around the mountains to the north or to the south to get the prisoners to the coast for processing, and then make it back here for the next group to convey to the shore. That's a round-trip that can take half a season, so even if we stagger the escort teams as we'd planned, there will always be a portion of Captain Choock's forces - perhaps a large portion - who won't be here where we need them. And that doesn't even address the question of how many subjects we should give them at a time. If we burden our shrews with too many, they may not be able to manage so many resisting beasts over such a lengthy march. Too few, and we're wasting precious beastpower we could really use here. It is a dilemma, no two ways about it."

"And such problems never arose in the Northlands?" Tolar probed.

"The Northlands boasted a robust river system which made the resettlement efforts far easier than they would have been otherwise."

Tolar studied the map. "Mossflower has rivers too."

"None that we can easily use. The Moss was deemed too close to Redwall, and now that the Abbeybeasts know our purpose, they could try to disrupt any boating traffic we send downstream, if they suspect us of using it for transport. The next closest is the one two days to the south, where Lorr Bridge spans it - but, you'll note from the map, that river doesn't flow all the way to the sea, disappearing under the mountains, which means even if we did convey detainees along it, the crews and their charges would have to disembark and finish rounding the mountains on foot anyway, so it would hardly be worth the trouble. And the one below that would take us all the way down to where Doublegate was, and I'm not looking to extend the early phase of this campaign that far south - not yet. I'd much prefer to get central Mossflower all cleared out first, so as not to spread ourselves too thin, and that means all the forest between here and the Northlands, down to that first river by Lorr Bridge. That could take until early summer - and that's assuming we can find some way to expedite the passage of resettlers to make the process go faster than it is now."

"Do you have any ideas on what we can do about this?"

"I do. Use the Moss anyway, and the Redwallers be damned. Our original strategy did not take into account nearly two hundred rats seeking sanctuary at the Abbey. Between them and all the freed slaves who've settled there, I've a feeling Redwall will find itself far too occupied to worry overmuch about what's going on outside its walls. That should free up the Moss to use as we see fit, without meddling from them."

"So, you've become resigned that you'll not be getting those rats out of Redwall after all?" Tolar asked, voicing what in recent days had come more and more to be taken as a given at Foxguard.

"Oh, I've not forgotten them, not at all. We're watching the Abbey day and night, just as we have all along, so that if they're ever thrown out of Redwall because the residents have finally grown tired of them, or if they attempt to sneak away on their own, we'll be there to take them. On the bright side, our cordon has ensnared a number of additional rats who've sought to reach the Abbey, so our sentries there aren't being totally wasted. And another undeniable advantage is that as long as those rats are bottled up in the Abbey, they're not free to spread word of the campaign throughout Mossflower. That works to our favor - not that any rat forewarned of our operations would have anywhere to run where we still wouldn't track them down eventually."

"And if the Redwallers use their birds to spread news of the Purge?"

"Our birds trump theirs. We've more of them, they're bigger and have greater range, and are better versed in military ways. We're not above engaging in a little aerial intimidation to keep those Abbeybeasts in their place, although so far it hasn't proven necessary; as far as we can tell, aside from flights here and to the quarry to keep lines of communication open, the Sparra have limited themselves to their usual foraging in the woods and meadows immediately around Redwall. But even if they were so inclined as to try to warn the local rat population, how would they do it? Fly right into vermin settlements squawking, 'Flee for your lives, the terrible squirrels are coming to get you?' If they could make themselves understood at all, they'd likely be laughed at and derided with scorn and ridicule - and then find themselves spitted over a roasting fire. No, I think the Sparra represent a minimal potential impediment to our efforts." Custis shot Tolar a critical gaze. "And don't call it a 'Purge.' That's the degrading name our opponents give it."

"It's happening to them. One might say that grants them the privilege of what to call it."

"It's our operation, not theirs. They don't get a say in the matter - and it is _not_ 'the Purge.'"

"Captain Truax, from what I gather, would beg to differ."

"Truax is a captain no longer - just a disgraced fugitive who chose to flee with his family instead of following orders, abandoning his fellow rats to face their responsibility to the Accord while he huddles behind high stone walls like a coward. His opinion is not worth the air we're wasting now talking about him."

Tolar realized pressing the matter would be a waste of his own breath. "Well, that horde to the northeast did you something of a favor, by recruiting most of the rats from that area and consolidating them all in one place."

Custis looked at the fox askance. "A lot of good that does us, now that they've all escaped to Redwall."

"It does still help, Captain. That horde's activities thinned out the rat population in this part of Mossflower sufficiently that the relative few remaining have proven very easy to take care of, without much risk of escapees being able to spread warning to other parts of this region."

"Yes, that is true. Then again, it has forced us into ranging farther afield for our collection expeditions, since few rats remain in the nearer woods."

"You would have had to do that anyway, once you'd cleared out the nearer forest. You've just gotten to it quicker."

"True. And what's left of that horde seems, from all reports, to be in a state of total disarray, so that's good, at least. One less thing for us to worry about." Custis stabbed his paw at the map once more. "So, if we are to use the Moss for resettlement transport, we'll need at least one main staging area right on the river - and right now, Foxguard is pretty much it."

Tolar tried not to let his bristling show. "What about Gawdrey?"

"Who said Gawdrey is built on the river?"

"Ah. I was simply assuming ... "

"And in any case, the advance construction contingent is only still setting up their base camp for the project. It will be at least another half-season before Gawdrey is established enough to serve as any kind of operational stronghold. For now, only Foxguard is in any state and position to fulfill our needs. So I guess the question now, Sword, is just how far are you willing to go to demonstrate your cooperation in these matters?"

Tolar met the squirrel's expectant gaze. "Have I extended you anything less than my fullest cooperation since we put that misunderstanding over Mykola behind us?"

"This would be a far more involved partnership than what we've had so far. I'm talking about having this garrison become a staging area, detention facility and processing center, fully involved in the deportation of our charges by way of the Moss. Are you and your foxes up for this?"

"My foxes are up for whatever I tell them, so don't you worry about that. I should remind you, however, that our dungeons were never designed to hold more than a dozen beasts - maybe a score, if we crowd them in there."

"This entire fortress is a dungeon, if we make it so. Unclimbable walls, only a single way in and out, armed swordsbeasts to watch over them - that will be the easy part. My Gawtrybe will have all the hard work to do, sweeping them up and marching them here."

"My foxes - even our cadets - think of themselves as warriors, so getting them to become wardens might take some convincing. I'll convince them, though, if that's what the situation calls for. Do you think you'll recall all of Choock's shrews to serve as ferrybeasts? They would naturally be suited to such work."

"I don't think so. They're all still on the other side of the Moss, and it might be best for them to remain there, to help with our western operations. Even if Foxguard and the Moss become the main conduit for this campaign, there will still need to be supplementary transit routes as well. And, once we've taken care of northern Mossflower, we may find it more efficient to to shift our base of operations down to one of the southern rivers. We'll have to wait and see about that."

"What of boats? Our sole ferry raft is all we have here ... and we need that in case we have to cross the Moss ourselves."

"Of course. Right now the only strength of vessels on the Moss is the raft group we built for Redwall's quarrying expedition, and they're not about to let us have use of them, even if we were the ones who built them."

"Hardly," Tolar agreed with a smirk. "Relations with the Abbey are tense enough as it is. And speaking of which, do you imagine the Redwallers at the quarry might seek to prevent us from using the river? They're downstream of us, so we'd have to sail right by them."

Custis shook his head. "It's not their river to say who travels it or not, and in any event, they've not yet started ferrying across any building material. It could be nearly summer before they have enough stone cut and shaped to make crossings worthwhile, and that will leave us plenty of opportunity to avail ourselves of these currents."

"Not if we don't have any craft of our own."

The squirrel dismissed this concern as well. "We built those barges for the Redwallers; we can build more."

"Not without pulling a portion of your Gawtrybe off the sweeps for boat building duty."

"The interruption will be worth it, if it expedites the campaign overall."

"You also had shrews and otters helping you on that previous occasion. I still think you'll need to recall at least some of Choock's squad. Once we've built the transports, somebeasts will have to pilot them down to the sea. Do you Gawtrybe even possess the river skills for such duties?"

"Hmm. That is a point. It's one thing to get a raft punted from one riverbank to another, and something else entirely to navigate a vessel downriver on a voyage which could last days. Shrews would certainly acquit themselves better under such circumstances, and I would be loathe to lose any of my squirrels for such a length of time. We own the forests like nobeast else, but we're hardly riverfaring experts. You may be right, Sword - I may need to recruit some of Captain Choock's shrews for this assignment."

"Two heads are better than one, eh?"

"As long as they work together, yes they are. I'll write up a simple message to be flashed to Salamandastron this afternoon, before the sun gets too low; that's actually the best time of day to catch the low rays and send them back west, and I'll want Lord Urthblood's sanction before I embark on any course requiring redeployment of assigned forces."

"Why not just send a messenger gull?" Tolar asked. "They come and go all the time these days, so if there's not one outside right now as we speak, there will be soon. They could deliver your query to the mountain nearly as promptly."

"I'd prefer not to divert any of our winged comrades from their aerial reconnaissance if I can help it; their scouting has proven invaluable. And a message flashed from the signal mirror will arrive instantly, and with no chance of the messenger getting lost or waylaid. Why? Are you still sore about my previous 'unauthorized' use of the mirror?"

"Not at all - Captain. I was merely thinking in terms of practicality, and the resources we have on paw. Your reasoning makes sense. I'll even let you and your squirrels send the message yourselves if you wish."

"Thank you, Sword. We may just ... " A knock at the meeting room's closed door interrupted Custis, and before either squirrel or fox could ask who it was or bid them enter, the latch clicked and the door swung inward. To their surprise they beheld not one of the stronghold's military beasts but the assistant glassmaker Kyslith. "Yes?" Custis snapped, irritated at this display of impropriety by a creature who clearly didn't know better. "Sword Tolar and I are in conference. Why do you interrupt us so?"

"My pardons, sirs, but I am here at the bidding of Master Trelayne. Sword, an incident occurred which we feel warrants your attention ... "

"An incident? Has there been some kind of accident? Is anybeast injured?"

"No, although they could have been, very badly. If your discussions here are not too pressing, we would ask that you come right away."

It was Custis who answered, "Not until you're a little less cryptic as to what this is all about."

Kyslith swallowed. "It concerns Mona - and the vitriol."

Tolar immediately straightened. Glancing at Custis and then back at Kyslith, he said, "Our talks here were nearly finished anyway. I'll be right there."

00000000000

"Mona, what were you thinking?"

Kyslith had withdrawn to leave the swordfox chieftain and his healer vixen alone on the walltop after showing Tolar to Mona. Now the two of them stood alone, gazing out over southern Mossflower from the low battlements of Foxguard's outer wall.

"I was perfectly fine," she shot back. "I knew what I was doing."

"Did you? Kyslith said he only just managed to catch you in time to keep you from falling in. Mona, you could have been killed!"

"Killed?" Her gaze and voice became distant and dreamy, as if focused on something else. "No ... no, I don't think so."

"What were you even doing down there? I'd have thought you'd want to stay as far away from that stuff as vulpinely possible."

"I was simply satisfying my curiosity, that's all. The vitriol is perfectly safe, as long as you treat it right. Trelayne and Kyslith work with it all the time."

"Trelayne and Kyslith wear heavy protective smocks and gauntlets when handling the concentrated vitriol, and sometimes masks and goggles too. And even they admit such precautions would not save them if they were to fall in, or have a large spill of it wash over them. They have many seasons of experience working with the vitriol, and if they still have their lives and all their limbs, it's only through a large measure of luck and careful practice. You recall what happened to their mouse assistant at Salamandastron."

"That was under battle conditions, when many other creatures were being maimed and slain in ways no less gruesome. If Tratton ever bombarded Foxguard with stormpowder, you can rest assured I'll keep myself far away from any vitriol."

"Mona, this is nothing to joke about!"

"I'm not joking. In fact ... " She gave a long pause. "I think Foxguard should have its own stock of vitriol on paw from now on, even after Trelayne leaves. For weapons purposes."

"Weapons purposes? Mona, you're making no sense. We're swordsbeasts, inside a nearly impregnable fortress. We'd have no call for such a thing. How would we even deploy it in any kind of battle scenario?"

"A way would be found. Captain Scarbatta has bolstered his squadron greatly over the past two seasons, and he has many more gulls than are necessary for the defense of Salamandastron. Some could be assigned here on an open-ended basis, in case they were needed."

"Needed for what? What possible enemy could we face that would warrant such measures?"

"You might have welcomed the vitriol in your arsenal when Snoga attacked. Who's to say more such villains aren't still to be found in Mossflower, waiting to pounce when our guard is down?"

"Our guard is never down. That's what Foxguard, and our lookout tower, is all about. And you can be sure Captain Custis and his Gawtrybe will turn up any hidden threat to us in the course of their sweeps. There's only one horde anywhere in nearer Mossflower, and that one has by all accounts been thrown into utter disarray by the desertion of their rats, and represents no danger to us at all. The vitriol is unnecessary, and probably unworkable too, not least of all because Trelayne is the only beast who knows how to make it. Are we to have him permanently stationed here as well?"

"He could show me how to make it."

"What?! If anybeast alive has reason not to have anything to do with that lethal solution, it's you, Mona. Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

"Because I know what it can do. I'll be able to treat it with the same respect Trelayne does. I can master it, instead of letting it master me."

Tolar crossed his arms. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? That's why you singled out the vitriol, and not the flaming oil, or the poisonous yellow vapors. If Foxguard's defense were your only concern, those other weapons would do just as well. You're still obsessing over what happened to Sathara, and looking for some way to cope with it."

"So what if I am? My points are still valid. It would be a potent weapon to add to our defenses."

Tolar shook his head. "This is too dangerous. The vitriol is not something you can use as your own personal plaything, or add to your list of macabre healer's experiments. After that stunt you pulled just now, I don't want you anywhere near it. Once Trelayne is finished with his work here, he's leaving, and leaving none of his vitriol behind. There's no place for such a thing at Foxguard, and I'll not have it here."

Mona grew silent, almost petulant, staring off into the forested distance. At that moment, Tolar realized a battle of wills might be brewing between them ... and he wasn't at all sure he would emerge the victor.

"I will see you later, Mona. For now this discussion is over." Turning, the Sword circled around to the nearest flight of wall stairs, descended the stone steps and strode across the lawns in search of one particular creature. He found the fox he sought down in the cellars, helping to oversee the weasels who were hard at work there.

Remillard looked up with mild surprise at his Sword's unanticipated appearance in this noisy work area. Tolar beckoned his fellow fox out into the hall and down the corridor toward, appropriately enough, Mona's surgery. They stopped, however, still within sight of the open doorway to Trelayne's glass shop.

"How goes the work?" Tolar asked over the echoing clangs and poundings from where the weasels labored.

"As expected, Sword. The treasury grows apace. We will soon have enough to start distribution and disbursement."

"Fine. That's not why I came down to see you, however."

"Oh?"

Tolar pointed toward Trelayne's central chamber. "Since you are our resident blacksmith, I'd like you to drop everything else and fashion a door for that room - a door with a solid latch that can be locked with a key."

"Doors are hard, Sword, and lockable doors doubly so. That's why we still have so many doorless rooms in Foxguard. Can't it just be a simple affair that can be secured with a sliding bar from inside?"

"No, the whole point will be to make it so it can be locked when nobeast is inside. How soon can you have it done?"

"That depends. Can I pull a couple of the weasels off their minting duties to help with the carpentry?"

"Do it. This is your top priority."

"Then, two days."

Tolar nodded. "Get right on it. In the meantime, I'll post guards until it's finished."

"Guards?"

"I'll tell you about it later. When you're done, I'll want exactly two keys made for it: one for me, and one for Trelayne. No more, no less - and Mona is not under any circumstances to have access to either."

"As you say, Sword. All will be done to your specifications."

"Thank you, Rem. Let me know if you need anything, and I'll make sure you get it." Tolar turned and headed for the stairs up out of the cellars. He might not have complete control over everything that was going on in and around Foxguard these days, but he could certainly make sure that Mona went nowhere near the vitriol again.


	11. Chapter 63

**CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE**

As Sodexo's party - now bolstered by three ferrets as well - drew within sight of Redwall, they were to encounter any number of creatures before actually setting foot inside the Abbey.

The first of these was a small knot of squirrels moving toward them across the open plains from the west, an even half-dozen of what were clearly more of the Gawtrybe archers. At first the woodlanders worried these might be the same squad they'd passed previously, who for some reason had circled north to settle what they saw as unfinished business with the badger who'd dared to question them so, but it quickly became apparent that these were different beasts altogether.

The squirrels vaulted over the roadside drainage ditch - not nearly so deep nor wide here as it became directly across from Redwall - and broke out onto the road just ahead of the tiny caravan. Their leader took stock of the procession as it approached, then his eyebrows shot up as he recognized the ferret tavern keeper. "Captain Grayfoot?" he asked in mild surprise.

Grayfoot nodded. "Aye, an' ye're Cap'n ... um ... "

"Matowick," the squirrel supplied. "Commander of the Gawtrybe at Salamandastron."

"Ah. Knew I reckergnized you as one o' Urthblood's Gatrybe cap'ns - just couldn't sort out in my mind which one. Been awhile since I was last in th' Northlands."

"Yes, I know. Aren't you a bit far from your tavern?"

"Only less'n half a day's march. Make trips t' Redwall all th' time, an' today seemed like a nice day fer one. I'm a lot closer to my tavern than you are t' Salam'dastron."

"Yes," Sodexo picked up, "what is the commander of that mountain's forces doing here in the heart of Mossflower?"

Matowick eyed the badger. "And you are?"

"Lord Sodexo of the Southern Glades. I have already made the acquaintance of some of your fellow Gawtrybe, and was nearly shot for my efforts."

"Then you must have done something to provoke such a response. We have more urgent business in Mossflower than picking fights with honest travellers."

"I merely asked questions they refused to answer - specifically, questions about the rats they held as captives. And now I know what your 'urgent business' in Mossflower is, thanks to Captain Grayfoot, so we've no need to press you for details you may be reluctant to provide."

"Grayfoot is no longer a captain in Lord Urthlood's forces," Matowick said, his jaundiced gaze lingering on the ferret, "and it sounds to me as if he may have been rather lax about sharing state secrets."

"And what state is that?" Sodexo challenged. "The only state I have ever known is the free state of Mossflower, where good creatures may come and go as they please. It seems it is not that way any more for its rats."

"If Grayfoot has told you of our campaign here, then he must also have told you of the reason for it, unless he was being irredeemably irresponsible. The rats of the lands, delivered to the Searat King Tratton so that they may live among their brethren, in exchange for a peace no other creature could have achieved, and the release of all Tratton's woodlander slaves. I'd call that a fair trade. More than fair, if you ask mice and otters and hedgehogs and squirrels who frittered their lives away in chains as recently as last season, but now know freedom."

"Yes, slavery is indeed a terrible thing," Sodexo agreed with a nod. "For anybeast. Now, I am no friend of rats in general, but some of those I saw being led away from their homes in bonds were clearly family beasts, including the very young and very old. Some spoke of friends and kin being slain for resisting. Is your Accord truly worth such a price?"

"Yes," Matowick replied without hesitation. "As somebeast who has seen firstpaw what the Accord has accomplished, I can state that it is without a doubt worth it. And once you reach Redwall, which I assume to be your destination, you may speak with some of the former slaves who passed through Salamandastron on their way to the Abbey, and hear from them whether they deem the Accord worth it as well."

Sodexo considered this. "You and your squirrels are going to Redwall as well, Captain?"

"We are."

"Then let us travel the rest of the short remaining way together, and leave any further debate until it can be resumed properly, ideally at table over food and drink."

"Might that not give you indigestion?" Matowick said facetiously.

"I am a Badger Lord. Certain things with which I do not hold truck may betimes stick in my craw, but I am not easily given to indigestion."

"Very well." The half-dozen Gawtrybe arrayed themselves in marching order alongside the travellers from the south, and momentarily all were underway once more. Gazing ahead, Matowick observed, "It seems there's a large turnout there already, outside their gates. I wonder what that could all be about?"

"I doubt it is for us," Sodexo replied. "Our visit was not announced, and I see no way the Abbeybeasts could be expecting us."

"As is the case with us as well," said Matowick. "It's possible we were spotted from the walltop coming across the plains, and I suppose birds may have alerted them to either your presence or ours."

"Yes, there certainly are a lot of them around these days, aren't there?" Neblett remarked knowingly.

"It seems a large assembly," Deakyne added, "far more than any welcoming party for us would likely warrant."

"Then let us go see what all this is about," Sodexo rumbled, "and hope that we have not caught the Redwallers at an inopportune time."

The crowd assembled in the road before the Abbey's open main gates was indeed an impressive one, consisting of scores of creatures of almost every woodlander species. And while a few of the mice on the fringes of the gathering could be seen to wear the traditional Redwall habits, it quickly became clear that the vast majority were not brothers or sisters of the order.

Their conversation trailed off as they all turned to face the newcomers approaching from the south. Sodexo halted with a score of paces between him and the Abbeybeasts, setting down the front of his cart to make the proper introductions. One of the habit-garbed mice broke away from the main group and scurried forward to greet the visitors.

"Why ... why, Lord Sodexo, isn't it? We had no idea you were coming! It's marvelous to see you again! Of course, you probably don't remember me, but I remember your last visit to us very well!"

"If you are the Abbot, then I gather you must be Geoff, whom I last saw as a young novice more seasons ago than I care to admit. I have been remiss in not visiting again before now, but we badgers measure time differently than other beasts, and it does have a way of slipping away from us."

Geoff's smile of welcome faltered. "Yes, quite a bit has happened at Redwall since you last came to us, and not all of it good, I'm forced to confess. We'll have much news for you to catch up on."

"Consider me mostly caught up already, Abbot Geoff. We passed by Drey Barrenoak on our way here, and spent a night with Deltus and his clan. He informed us of what has been going on in and around Redwall in recent seasons, including the tragic circumstances of Abbess Vanessa. And, as you can see, we have met up with Captain Grayfoot, who has enlightened us to matters Deltus conveniently overlooked or omitted from his accounts."

"Ah. So then I assume you also know of Lord Urthblood's campaign of relocating all Mossflower's rats to the coastlands, for delivery to the Searat Empire?"

"I do - although I can't imagine the situation having much of an impact upon you good folk here."

Geoff revealed a wry smirk. "Oh, you'd be surprised. So, we well know Grayfoot and Judelka and dear little Percy. Who are these other beasts in your company?"

"When last I visited Redwall, my daughter was still too young to travel the lands, and my wife needed to stay home with her while I journeyed. This time I have the privilege of presenting my wife Hekko, and our daughter Bostany."

The badgerwife gave a curtsey whose elegance belied her simple travel garb, while Bostany gave the barest of nods and not a trace of a smile.

"And this modest throng of mice and voles is, I believe, known to you by reputation if not by sight. May I present to you the riverside clan of Deakyne the mouse and Neblett the vole - most of their clan, at any rate."

Geoff's dourness instantly evaporated as his smile returned, even wider now than before. "Why, yes, yes, of course! These names are well known to us indeed! We've long hoped to see these goodbeasts here someday so that we might properly thank them for their hospitality to one of our own when he most needed it."

"On the contrary," Deakyne said as Geoff warmly shook first his paws and then Neblett's, "it is we who shall always owe an unpayable debt to Redwall, for delivering to us the heroes who rescued our stolen young ones and returned them safely to us when fate might easily have decreed otherwise."

"Yes, much about Redwall has to do with fate, as anybeast familiar with our histories could tell you. We'll leave the question of who owes the greater debt to whom for later, so let me just say it's wonderful to meet you at last, and we look forward to having you stay with us!" Geoff's gaze moved on to the squirrels. "And I see you have some Gawtrybe travelling with you as well, unless I misjudge these beasts for who they are. How did this come to pass?"

"We only just met up with them as we approached the Abbey," Sodexo explained. "They were coming across the Western Plains. More than that, I will leave for them to tell."

The Gawtrybe officer nodded at Geoff. "Abbot. Captain Matowick of Salamandastron, kindly requesting admittance to Redwall, upon your leave."

"As long as you plan to cause no trouble or strife to anybeast within our walls, Captain, you are welcome. Did you just travel here directly from the coastlands?"

"I did."

"Then am I to assume your fellow squirrels here came with you, and are not part of the forces who have been besieging our home?"

"Besieging Redwall?" Sodexo looked from Geoff to Matowick and back again. "Can this be true?"

"Well, perhaps 'besieging' is a bit strong, " Geoff conceded, "although it's certainly felt that way in recent days. And it most assuredly does apply to the rats sheltering at Redwall, who daresn't set one foot past any of our gates."

"Rats?" Grayfoot repeated, clearly surprised. "You got rats stayin' at the Abbey?"

"Quite a few, as a matter of fact - which I assume must be what has brought Captain Matowick here. I hope sharing our Abbey with them won't be a problem for any of you?"

"Redwall is a big place," Sodexo deemed. "I presume there will be plenty of room for them to have their space and us to have ours."

"Not everybeast seems to find that enough for their liking. Come, and make your way inside while I see to this other matter demanding my attention."

As they fell into step behind Geoff, they soon found they could proceed only a little way farther before all the creatures congregated out in the road blocked their progress. "Abbot, who are all of these beasts?" Deakyne asked. "They ... don't really look like Redwallers."

"They are in name, and hopefully in spirit as well, although there may be a bit of an estrangement for the near interim." Geoff addressed a sturdy mouse standing with all the other woodlanders outside the Abbey gate. "Lekkas, is this something you're absolutely sure you want to do? You don't have to, you know."

"On the contrary, Abbot, this situation here has become intolerable for us. We were the slaves of rats before coming to Redwall, some of us for most or all of our lives. We did not come all this way, and endure all we have, only to be forced to live with such creatures again."

"And it matters not to you that they are, in their own way, every bit as much prisoners here as most of you were under the searats?"

"That's not our concern. If they continue to live here, then we cannot. We have discussed this amongst ourselves, over several days and at great length. This is our final decision."

"Not too final, I should hope. When time comes to lay down the foundations of Freetown, either later this season or next, I anticipate seeing most of you here engaged in that endeavor, and seeing you settle in your new community as permanent neighbors of Redwall. But you do realize, the only thing separating you from those rats will still be a ditch, a road and a single high wall?"

"If they are even still dwelling at Redwall by that time," Lekkas countered. "Things do change, Abbot, and a lot can happen in a season. They may do something to get themselves expelled from the Abbey, or they might decide to leave on their own. Or maybe the rest of you will come to your senses and realize there's no place for creatures like that at Redwall."

"They've dwelt with us for many days now, have observed all our ways, violated none of our rules, and done nothing to suggest they mean to cause trouble or intend to depart. Considering what they face should they stray outside our walls, we are not about to expel them based on their species alone."

"Then they're all yours. We'll busy ourselves at the quarry, helping our moles and otters and the Guosim excavate the stone for our new home. I'm sure all our extra paws will be appreciated there, and speed the work along to a much earlier finish."

"If this is what you really want to do," Geoff conceded with a sigh. "Quarrying is hard labor, and not everybeast is cut out for it - no pun intended."

"We're former slaves, Abbot. We know a thing or two about hard physical labor."

"You've children among you. They've never worked at anything so hard before, I'm sure."

"They won't be expected to work. We'll keep them there with us as a reminder of what all the rest of us will be working for: the young ones we currently have, and those we hope to have in the future, once Freetown is built."

"Very well then. Is there anything else we can do for you to help you on your way?"

Lekkas grew more conciliatory in tone. "You've already been most generous in that regard, Abbot. The provisions you've bestowed upon us from Redwall's diminishing larders will see us through to the quarry and then some, and the blankets and bedding will serve us well during our journey there and afterwards as well. We have all we need. Thank you."

"The Sparra messengers we've been flying out daily between here and the quarry will follow your progress, and alert us at once if you encounter any trouble along the way, and the otters among you will be able to manage your crossing by raft to the other side of the Moss. We've done all we can to ensure the success of your sojourn; the rest is up to you."

"We appreciate it, Abbot. But a company as large as ours is unlikely to meet trouble from any mischief-minded beasts, and we do have more than a few scrappers among us, hardened by slave life and not about to shrink away from a fight. Our biggest concern will probably be any illness or injury that might befall us, but then you have your own concerns on that score as well. At least once we're on the other side of the river, we'll have the option of availing ourselves of Mona at Foxguard, should we suffer any malady beyond our own ability to treat."

"I'm sure you will make do just as we will. Good travels to you then, Lekkas, and we shall look forward to your return when Freetown is ready to go up." Geoff glanced toward Sodexo, who stood listening in our their conversation. "Although I should warn you, you'll be missing out on some of the finest honey in all the lands, unless I miss my guess as to why this badger is here."

"Perhaps we can keep them from missing it altogether." Sodexo turned and reached into his cart, producing another large pot of honey, this one even bigger than the one he'd bestowed upon Deakyne's and Neblett's clans at their riverside lodge. "I have heard enough here to surmise that you are all former slaves, now departing from Redwall for some major task which awaits you elsewhere. It would be churlish of me not to gift you with this modest token for your travels. It will only amount to a mouthful for each of you, owning to your numbers, but I hope you will find it to your liking."

"Lord Sodexo produces the best honey Redwall has ever tasted," Geoff told Lekkas, "and although it has been many seasons since he last gifted us with his succulent product, the memory and legend of it endures among us. You are fortunate indeed that you'll get to savor a taste of it for yourselves."

"Although hopefully more will await you upon your return," the badger added. "Redwall has always been my best customer, and I have brought an ample supply for barter."

The otter Tourki stepped forward to graciously accept the honey pot. "Yore generosity's much appreciated, good sir. Seems we ex-slaves have benefitted much in recent seasons from the largess of Badger Lords."

"May I ask why you are beginning your trek at this time of day?" Sodexo inquired. "The afternoon grows late, and the sun low toward the horizon. One would think such an expedition would best be mounted in the morning."

"Just the way it worked out," Lekkas explained. "We waited until we could be fully supplied with what the Abbey was willing and able to spare us. But it shouldn't be a concern; we should still make the Moss by nightfall. We'll camp there overnight, then cross come daybreak and make the short march to the quarry, to meet up with the Redwallers and Guosim already there."

Sodexo glanced to Geoff. "You've reopened the quarry?"

The Abbot nodded. "To build extra housing for all the beasts we have living here these days. It's become quite the necessity, in fact."

"Then I have arrived at an historic time indeed." The badger returned his gaze to Lekkas. "But why then do you leave by the western gate, when you are heading east? It would make more sense to depart from the opposite side of the Abbey."

"The size of our group, partly. Rather than having to trickle our way out in single file, we could exit much more rapidly through these main gates, and the road makes a good staging area to make sure we're all assembled in good order. But the main reason is the symbolism this gate represents to us."

"Symbolism?"

Lekkas nodded. "Not only do we now stand directly across from where Freetown will be built, but the rats we're fleeing came in through these gates, so we're leaving that way too. A nice little trade-off for the Abbot to contemplate in our absence."

"Now, Lekkas, be fair," Geoff protested. "We've done only what we've had to, according to Redwall's code. An argument could be made that if anybeasts are being unreasonable here, it's not me and my fellow Abbey leaders."

"Perhaps we are being unreasonable, in your eyes," Lekkas admitted. "But different creatures know different reason. And if you could do naught else but offer those rats sanctuary, perhaps we former slaves could do naught else but what we're doing now."

"Then we shall have to content ourselves with seeing things each in our own way - an honest difference between friends."

"And neighbors. We will see you again when we're ready to commence Freetown, Abbot, but for now, as this good badger has said, the sun grows low and the afternoon late, and we must tarry no more if we want to gain the Moss by nightfall."

With one last round of farewells and well-wishes, the party of liberated slaves marched off with Lekkas at their head and Clovis at his side, leaving the road and striking out through the meadow south of the Abbey. In very short order their entire company, many score strong, had snaked its way through the springtime fields and disappeared around the far corner of the wall.

"Well, that's that, I suppose, at least for now," Geoff lamented, then said to Sodexo, "but if their departure was a rather melancholic occasion, at least your arrival puts a little cheer back into the day. So, in that sense, your timing has proved most fortuitous indeed. Come, let us go inside, and we'll see about giving you all a proper Redwall reception - which means getting weary travellers off their footpaws and getting some fine fare into their bellies!"

"Sounds good to me," Neblett chuckled. "After our trek here from our home, I'd say a Redwall greeting is just what this vole needs!"

00000000000

As Lekkas and Clovis led their quarry-bound procession away from the Abbey and deeper into the nearby woods, the former slaves found themselves flanked by no fewer than a dozen of the Gawtrybe, with none other than Chetwynd himself directing them.

"If you don't mind," Lekkas said to the squirrel sergeant with a trace of impatience, "we are headed for the River Moss, and thence to the quarry pit, just as you were told to expect. What do you mean by accosting us so?"

Chetwynd waved off the mouse's censure. "Oh, we're not accosting anybeast, don't you worry your whiskers. You're all free to be on your way without delay - as long as you've no rats hiding amongst you."

"Rats?!" Lekkas nearly exploded. Whyever would we have rats among us? Those are the very creatures we're seeking to flee!"

"All well and good ... as long as this isn't some kind of Redwallian ruse, to sneak a few of those fugitives out under cover of a crowd of goodbeasts. I've heard it said that you Abbeybeasts can be crafty that way, resorting to guile to get your way while avoiding a direct confrontation. Sly as foxes, if rumors be true."

"And just where would we be sneaking them _to_?" Lekkas pounced. "They're already inside the one sanctuary in all Mossflower where you can't get them. Why would any of them risk capture and deportation by sneaking out of the Abbey with us?"

"Who can know how a vermin mind works? Maybe they remembered that they left the kettle on back home, maybe they're just in the mood for stroll. But we'll be checking every one of you as you pass, just to make sure you're all as innocent as you claim."

And so they did, closely inspecting every ex-slave in the line, poking and prodding at every wayfarer whose species wasn't immediately evident, paying special attention to mice who might have been small-statured rats trying to pass themselves off as their diminutive cousins.

Clovis fumed at this affront. "It's a good thing Kurdyla was one of the slaves who elected to remain behind at Redwall. If he were here now, I bet he'd try to see how high up into the tree branches he could fling some of these impudent bossytails!"

Lekkas regarded the stern and uncompromising faces of the Gawtrybe inspecting them. "Then I'd say it's a good thing for Kurdy that he's not here, because these squirrels are dead serious. They'd turn our musclebound otter champion into a pincushion with a rudder if he tried any of his usual brawny exploits on them."

Granholm yelled out at Chetwynd as he passed, "Hey, aren't you afraid those rats back at the Abbey might make a break for it while we've got you tied up here, and get clean away from you?"

"We're not _all_ here," the Gawtrybe sergeant informed his fellow squirrel. "There are still a few of us watching the approaches to and from the Abbey. And in case you've not studied the skies this afternoon, we've doubled the usual number of gulls flying surveillance over Redwall. If our ratty friends try to escape, we'll be alerted to the fact before they've made it a dozen paces, and round them up in good time, whether they make for the plains or are foolish enough to re-enter our woods."

"_Your_ woods?" Granholm scoffed. "The Abbey leaders are right about one thing: you Gawtrybe presume far too much, and have grown two sizes too big for your britches!"

"Don't wear britches - they interfere horribly with climbing and leaping, you know." Chetwynd fell into step alongside Granholm. "And for the purposes of our campaign, this _is_ our forest, until every rat is accounted for. I'd have thought you former slaves of all beasts would have no issues with what we're doing here. We're ridding the lands of all rats. Do you really see that as a bad thing?"

"A Mossflower without rats might be a fine and splendid thing," Granholm shot back. "Maybe you're doing all goodbeasts a favor, and maybe you're taking way too much upon yourselves for a provision of your Accord you had no right to sign into law - I don't know. What I do know is that those rats mucking up our Abbey home wouldn't be there in the first place if not for you."

"The Abbot could very easily solve this whole dilemma - if he'd simply do the right thing and give those rats over to us."

"He's never going to do that, and you know it."

"Then we have an impasse, and Redwall stays under our watch. But it won't take us forever to see to all the other rats in central Mossflower, and once we're done with them, we might just have to turn our attention back to the Abbey."

"What? Are you talking about attacking Redwall, or placing it fully under siege? I thought Lord Urthblood ordered you to disengage from us?"

"Only because we have a lot else to keep us occupied for now. But if things get to the point where the only rats left in this part of Mossflower are the ones being sheltered at the Abbey ... " Chetwynd shrugged. "He might not want to risk Tratton's spies finding out about this and jeopardizing the Accord. And if that comes to pass, steps will have to be taken."

"If you're brash and misguided enough to move against Redwall, you'll find everybeast in Mossflower standing against you - and you'll see some of us won't go as quietly as these rats you've been terrorizing."

"I'd be careful with throwing around any threats there, friend, or else - " Chetwynd never got to finish voicing his own threat, for at that moment another squirrel dropped out of the trees, breathing heavily from exertion and clearly agitated.

"Sergeant, sir, y' gotta come quick! We got a situation - with those Abbey squirrels!"

Chetwynd instantly straightened to full alert, assessing the situation. Glancing up and down the line at his inspection team, who'd clearly uncovered nothing amiss, he said, "I guess we're done here ... " Sticking his paw in his mouth, he emitted a sharp, piercing whistle, and within moments all his Gawtrybe stood assembled around him. "Listen up, squirrels! Looks like we've got a real incident to investigate, so break off from here and let's follow Flynch! To the trees, on the double!"

As the astounded former slaves watched, the Gawtrybe raced up the nearer trunks and vanished into the forest canopy, pursuing the lead set by the scout Flynch. Before the last red flicker of their receding tails disappeared altogether, the otter Tourki stepped out of the line, holding high the large honey pot Lord Sodexo had given him.

"Hey, didn't y' wanna check this? I might have a rat hidin' in it!"


End file.
